When I fill up I won't be thinking about Kucinich

Dennis Kucinich came to me in a dream and said, “Look at these gas prices! Don’t you think it’s odd - the closer we get to Election Day the lower they go? Don’t you see what’s going on here?”

Then three gigantic men in shades, suit jackets and Speedos came out of nowhere and grabbed him. They slapped duct tape over his mouth, forced him into a straightjacket, threw him into the back of a van and took off so fast I could actually taste gravel. Yum. Then I awoke to my 3-month-old puppy licking my face and mouth. Needless to say, I felt like I got gypped. I was always under the impression, if a dog sucks your face while sleeping aren’t you supposed to dream it’s someone hot and horny, and not dirt hitting your face? Stupid dog. You sleep alone tonight.

The guys who hauled Kucinich off were wearing candy-striped Speedos, so does that make them gay or me gay (for having the dream)?


Isn't watching this after my daughters have left the room somehow okay?

It makes me a dimwit (and there are many layers here). I’m thinking no one in the gay community would be caught dead in candy stripes. Something tells me they’ve been trying to take out Richard Simmons for years, but he’s a sniper’s worst nightmare. (Stand still, dammit!)

This whole candy-striped thing has me in a tizzy. It really killed the sharp-dressed image my subconscious was trying to achieve with their suit jackets and dark sunglasses. So I think I should throw out the Disney movies and tell the girls the puppy chewed them into oblivion. Better yet, I’ll just put one in his food dish every day and call it redemption for loosening up my shoelaces (they always seem to unravel when I’m at work and on the stairs). Well, that and the chewed up internet cords (do they taste better than other cords?), making me scrub the carpet, and I can’t forget the unwanted face bath. I don’t know what’s worse - the fact that I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on Disney movies since my kids could see, or that my puppy chews on shoes and licks his balls before kissing me.

So that was one crazy dream/nightmare/make-out-session-with-my-dog. But concerning recent gas prices, I’d be the last one on earth to complain. They’ve been falling like they can’t get up. We went from $4.10/gal to $2.45 in what seemed like just a month. In fact, I’m getting excited right now wondering how low the price might possibly drop by Friday. I’m stuck with a gas hog at the moment, so for me, checking out the latest smoking hot price on the gas station sign has been just like a hot stud talking dirty to me.





Each time I drive by I wonder, Is today the day I’ll finally stop and let loose? I’ve still got enough to last another week, but I’m telling you, it’s taking all of my willpower to keep from hittin’ that. When I do prime the pump I want to make it worthwhile, so I’ll be filling up until it can’t take no more. And when I do give in to my desire, will I grab the pump slowly and savor the moment? Or will I rush right into it - stuff it in and squeal in delight with each gallon that enters my tank?

We’ll see. For now I’ll be holding out as long as possible. Nothing like letting the excitement build. But when I do it, I’m hoping everyone at the station will be inside the building or fighting in their trucks. I’d like a little privacy.

This could've been a really cool story

I’m trying to plan a vacation, and before every long trip I get the family vehicle readied for it. For me and my crew, driving is still the cheapest way to travel. And I’m sure the people on the bus will appreciate not waiting behind a line of kids for the bathroom.

It’s been two years since our last stint so I needed a lot of work done. I took the beast down to the shop Friday for a tune-up and oil change. I mentioned the muffler was smoking. I knew I needed a new one but have been putting it off since we usually don’t drive very far. It’s just a few blocks here and there. I also told them I recently started smelling gasoline under my hood and was worried there might be a leak. I trust these guys since they’ve been taking care of my vehicles for an eternity. They run an honest business, are semi-attractive, and make an effort to attempt to listen to whatever I’m saying.

When they were all done working on it they said the gas smell was due to the old muffler. That was odd, but good to hear. It seemed I’d be saving a little money. They referred me to the muffler shop, so I set up an appointment for Monday. Meanwhile, I drove the beast around town all weekend without any problems. Well, no problems other than the gas smell, smoking muffler and carbon monoxide poisoning.

I knew there had to be a reason for my goofiness. Now we know.

Yesterday was the first hot day we’ve had in a long time. It was around 80 degrees. After lunch I asked a friend from work to meet me at the muffler shop so I could catch a ride back, since the place is a few miles away. As I drove along I didn’t notice anything strange. But just as I pulled into the shop driveway to park, I noticed smoke. It wasn’t much, but enough to get my attention. I popped the hood and hurried around to investigate. When I got close enough to lift it I heard crackling noises and decided against it. It sounded like something was busy burning under there and more smoke was pouring out. So I ran into the shop and asked the two guys if they had a fire extinguisher. I told them I thought I had a fire! under the hood.

They followed me outside and Big Guy says, “Are you sure? It looks like steam. Maybe you’re overheating.”

He lifted the hood, and flames shot up. “Oh boy.” He turned to Old Guy. “Better go get that fire extinguisher.”

In a flash Old Guy reappeared, armed and ready. He muttered, “I hope I can figure this thing out.”

It took him less than a minute to pull the pin, point and shoot, and put out the fire.

My very first engine fire.

Looking back, it would have been something special if I could’ve been the one to put out that bitch, but Old Guy hogged all of the fun. And damn, that looked like a lot of fun. Right after he was done I saw him smile for a second. He even let out a little chuckle.

No fair! I have to pay for this shit, and I don’t even get to enjoy any of it?

So… what do I do now?

Well, I can assure you I’m putting ‘fire extinguisher’ on my shopping list. Never again will I let some one I don’t even know steal my fun away.

And this could’ve been a really cool story to tell the kids. It sucks that I can’t say, “The flames were shooting up from my engine - taunting me. I was all alone… Just me, the heat, and the possibility of massive explosions and/or certain death. Did I panic? No. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and put out that bastard. No fire is ever going to fuck with me, I tell you.”

But for now, sadly, I just don’t know what it’s like to operate a fire extinguisher and describe it in great detail.

So here’s the happy ending…

Big and Old Guys couldn’t take care of my muffler. They didn’t want to risk driving my vehicle into their shop for fear of more flames and whatnot (pansies). So I called the mechanics. Then my friend, who waited patiently through all of this, told me how much worse it could’ve been.

Well, she didn’t say she almost ditched me. Walking back to work and showing up even later is one way I could imagine it being worse…

While we conversed on the way back I told her the name of the mechanic who had originally worked on my flaming hell-beast, and found out she was kind of related to him. Awkward.

The mechanics couldn’t tow the smoky hellion to their shop until just before closing time, and it’s anyone’s guess when they’ll have it finished (for real). When it is finished, for real, I’ll have to dish out more (real) money. Awesome!

Then I’ll have to go back to the muffler shop.

This might turn into a week-long event.

I really need a vacation.

And a fire extinguisher. I think the first thing I’ll do when I get one is make a bonfire out of repair receipts.