Nomen Est Omen

I'll Take A Shot Of Anything, Bartender

********LOST!!!*********

Very precious house pet. Answers to the name of Dolares. Color: Green with specks of white. Last seen wrapped in plastic in the hands of the cashier at the VW dealer.

Please contact me if you have any information regarding the return of my dear Dolares. A reward of one of its children if found.

So this previous week sucked rotten apples. I've had a few illnesses in the family. Top that with hard core studying and hoping to pass the final today and it all combines to one shitty week.

The first illness came along Monday morning. I was on my way to the second week of training for work, feeling pretty good, even whipped out the removable car stereo and had it blaring when all of a sudden:

eeeeerrrrrrrrr

Huh?

lights, smoke, sons of bitches...my car coughed up half a lung.

I pulled over to the side of the road and opened the hood to look inside. I'm not quite sure why I bothered to do this because I had no idea what I was looking for or how to fix it once I found it. Yet I had to do something and I had to appear like I knew what I was doing so that all the other commuters passing by wouldn't see me just standing there, on the sidewalk, staring at the side of my car.

After a trip to the hospital, (literally), and a few phone calls later, I had the baby towed to the dealer. They gave me a courtesy ride to work and then promptly ignored my car the remainder of the day. Hot damn, that's some fine customer service.

The car was eventually completed and ready to be brought home on Thursday evening but not before another illness settled over the small circle of friends I have.

My bank account suffered a serious loss of weight and is currently being monitored closely for any signs of impending death as I had to shell out $1900 to get the car fixed. There are no words to describe the pain this brought me.

I hopped into my car, drove it all the way home, only to have the car go into relapse and now it sits, outside my apartment, clinging to life. Needless to say I'm on a first name basis with the dealer, as in, I call up, when they answer I say, "Hi. This is S. Faolan" and they know exactly who I am and why I'm calling.

Unfortunately I will once again need to restrict the calories in the bank account to aid the ailing car and if the car doesn't bounce back to top health this time, I may be attending both their funerals.

Then, just to add insult to injury, my internet connection has been down since Sunday. I can't possibly tell you how delighted I've been with only Micrsoft Hearts to keep me company. Protocal states that I must contact the company and listen to them condascend me and inform me that it's my equipment that is bad and I must make an appointment for a technician to come out, fork over more money, return the equipment, at my own cost, despite the fact that it's only 3 months old and I purchased it from said company, deposit more money into their open pockets as I rent equipment from the company who sold me the modem that is only three months old but is obviously broken because apparently "Not the Pacific Ocean The Other One Broadband" has a nasty habit of selling crap supplies to customers in order to make more money, while I wait for my "new but broken anyway" equipment to be fixed.

So I did just that.

The technician is supposed to be here tomorrow. I'm not decided if I should bother to get dressed. I know it's a special occassion, what with being wallet raped and all, but I figure if I'm going to get screwed, what's the point of getting out of my pajamas?

Oh, and just to really throw lemon juice and salt into the already gaping wound, I read an article the other day that showed an image of that Kevin or Keith or K someone, that Britney Spears is married to, driving a fat, sick car and it goes on to caption that this douche bag bought that car from the earnings of their saliva infested home video tapes show they had running for a few weeks.

Bloody fucking hell people.

I work my ass off every day and can barely afford to fix my poor little car in its most desperate time of need but this assclown can afford a car worth more money than I'll ever see in my life because he slapped his tongue all over Britney's face and mouth in night vision?

Where's the fucking justice?

Anyway, I passed my final, I can now start earning some major money and hope it likes its new accommodations and will stick around for a little while. I'm not mean to my money. I don't understand why it keeps running away from home.

Guess I better get this up before the internet goes out or before the technician comes over and makes things worse....and then of course, requesting payment for it.

Posted by S. Faolan Wolf at August 13, 2005 12:34 AM | TrackBack