Monday, January 4, 2010


When you get the call, you hope it is the best news.
The baby's got two arms, ten toes and fingers and the eyes aren't crossed.
Tether ball experiments won't be done on it in Lithuania.
T-balled weeny quits at four days on the highway of road test.
Transmission girlfriend with the penis that won't deflate after flight.
Expanded warranty translates to hosejob irregularity above 180 degrees.
What gives!


Patty D. writes:

"I was married for 32 years to a man who said he knew God personally, but the fruit was always bitter, and at the age of 55, our marriage ended. Through the years of mental and physical abuse, I trusted our Lord would carry me through this valley and He did. Never sure of what I would have to endure, I trusted in God, my perfect Father to walk with me.

Divorce is never easy for anyone.

I always had a car chosen for me by my then husband. Now with no credit history, I needed a car and a place to live. I cried out to God. In an attempt to purchase a car while living temporarily with my eldest daughter, and with only $2,000 for transportation and rent, the future looked bleak. I found a car for $1,000: a bargain for its age. The owners didn’t say in the ad that it was a standard car, for I can only drive an automatic. I told them about my faith and trusting God to find the car for me. I woke up early to start my venture, praising God for His love and protection.

At 7:00 am I drove myself in a loaned car down a empty highway. My cell phone rang. The call was from the owners of the car I couldn’t drive. They had listened to my plight and went to prayer. During the night, Jesus spoke to their hearts, telling them to sell their own family car to me for the same price even though it was more valuable. I couldn’t believe my ears. Then, when she told me where she lived, my eyes and heart could not believe what was before me. Forty feet in front of me was the street they lived on. We praised God for His faithfulness and His promise to bring to pass the desires of our hearts. Thank You dear sweet Lord for your promises and protection.

Oh to have such divine luck with a car!

I have had good luck in the car department to be sure. Who can ever forget the $500 Toyota Corolla station wagon that did me good service for years after that piddly payment?
Last day of the bumper
Not only did it run well, but the rusted-off, rear bumper gave way to a whimsical sculpture put in place by Masters Zak and Mik Miano (then of the City Museum's welding wonders).
Sadly, I had to send the Toyota on to another place in a lot on Hall street. The bumper is still with me in my kitchen, waiting for orders.
I went on to purchase a Honda Accord that seemed nice with its leather bucket seats and CD player, power windows and roomy interior, but the brakes went South pretty quick. That cost some green. It never seemed to get very good gas mileage and there never seemed to be time and money enough to go on a trip to Detroit or Chicago or Memphis to enjoy the fact that it has less-than-a-hundred-thousand miles on it.
I was not in love with the car and who knows what causes us to do silly things when we've been drinking, but...I left the keys in it a couple weeks ago. It was gone the next day. I don't know. Don't ask.
Have I explained this in a previous blog? Am I repeating myself? I am certainly revisiting the car part of my life, because the police called last night. They found it in a big, wide alley that the officer called Hodiamont Tracks (and which Google Maps calls Suburban Tracks???) to the Northwest of Kingshighway and Delmar. My buddy Sam and I rode up there to find the officer waiting for us in there. He needed to check the trunk to make sure there wasn't a dead body there. He needed to check my driver's license. Otherwise, we went to buy red, gallon can of gasoline and it started and drove all right back to my house.
The lucky ones left cigarette butts and ashes around the inside and they smashed it into something so that the hood, the grill and the front quarter panels on each side are fucked up, but it drives. I'm having it inspected right now, so I can see about selling it, but the guy at the shop said he can't get the hood open, so...I take it to a body shop down on Gravois on the recommendation of my friend Tom. He had a car backed into one time and the guy banged out the damage so he could drive it and didn't charge him. It cost him a twelve-pack, in other words.
We'll see what happens next.
The bodyman is searching for a hood.
Take that however you want to take it.

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