Living in Luxury

Class? I got class coming out of my infected toenail.
My poor Jeep Grand Cherokee (yet un-named) has been neglected for quite some time.
Once a happy urban single car family, Heather and I have become addicted to having two cars. About 19 months ago, I purchased a 2004 Mazda 6 because my new job position entailed a lot of driving. I did not want to pour the miles onto my beloved Jeep due to the seemingly eminent demise such actions would fortell. (How many misspellings so far Tony?) The Mazda was a pretty nice car that was very fun to drive. The Jeep was instantly relegated to dog carrying duty. This former luxury SUV has been broken into thrice and had the stereos jacked. Once by a real pro who left a broken window, but not even a scuff or scrape anywhere; other times by scumbags who cracked the dash because they probably realized after breaking the window that they knew nothing of how to get the stereo out. Poking and prodding of pry bars left my poor car weary and angry. So I gave up. The meth-heads won. No more stereo. We have been cruising the dogmobile for two years with no tunes. Just a big ass hole in the dash with wires hanging out. (Not a single busted window)

Last summer the rear view mirror just fell off. Ever have that happen? That is the second time it has happened to one of my vehicles. It feels like your car is totally falling apart; even though it's just a piece of glue on the windshield. So we have been cruising the dogmobile with no tunes and no rear view mirror for quite a while. The time has come to bring this vehicle back to it's former state of glory. I popped the old factory stereo back in this morning, and I just finished re-mounting the rear view mirror. I will now go and have some underpaid young men change the oil and lube the chassis. I will also expect a new oil filter and some air in the tires. I will also expect my air filter to be removed and shown to me in an effort to render the clips which hold the air filter housing totally limp and useless. I ask them every time I pull in if they would please refrain from the 107 point attempt to bend me over checklist and just stick to an oil, lube and filter. I have yet to have this request make it to the whole "team" as they all run around passing air filter boxes behind their backs and chanting code names out loud in unison in an effort to make their required safety procedures fun and entertaining. I dread visits to the oil change places, but god damn I hate changing my own oil. My time is very valuable.

I will also roll through the car wash which will undoubtedly leave the dogmobile (I think it has a name now) grinning from grill to tailpipe. I am such a good car owner. I should go to the car humane society and adopt some abandoned cars.

The dogmobile will be a classy ride again. Following it's lugging of the christmas tree this afternoon, I will vacuum the interior, wash the windows, and armor all the dash and seats. You will get into your car today and apologize to it for being such a poor car owner.

Last night I learned that I am really good at poker. Joyce finally lost money. I think I have seen that happen like five times over the four years of my monthly poker game. It was only four of us last nightfor the following reasons:
Noland, Mike and Bill are all in Las Vegas right now wishing they were sitting in my basement on a squeeky chair where every lean back is a risk of a full tip over.
Spencer has a girlfriend- so I should expect him to be at the poker game like never; so long as the relationship continues or the six month unselfish period expires.

Talk about selfish- Heather is hanging the christmas lights right now while I sit on my ass and listen to xmu. If you don't know what xmu is, then you better recognize. Or you should find out. Then you should listen to it. Unless you are in Atlanta, in which case album 88 is an acceptible substitute.

Oh well- I don't feel bad about watching her hang the lights because I don't give a shit about said lights. Same reason I don't feel bad about watching her clean the house. It is the perfect excuse. "If you care so much, then do something about it yourself". I am the best roommate ever.