Okay, explain this to me and recent epic adventures
Good and Bad and the ramifications. I think most of us have seen Ghostbusters by now. This is my favorite instances of someone giving the explaination of "bad" I have come across: Dr. Egon Spengler: There's something very important I forgot to tell you. Dr. Peter Venkman: What? Dr. Egon Spengler: Don't cross the streams. Dr. Peter Venkman: Why? Dr. Egon Spengler: It would be bad. Dr. Peter Venkman: I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean, "bad"? Dr. Egon Spengler: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light. Dr Ray Stantz: Total protonic reversal. Dr. Peter Venkman: Right. That's bad. Okay. All right. Important safety tip. Thanks, Egon Now. I am 38 years old. I have in the last 18 year have owned three cars. When I came of age i was told. CHECK YOUR OIL. MAKE SURE THERE IS OIL IN THE CAR OR THE ENGINE WILL TURN INTO A SEMI SOLID CHUNK OF MOLTEN METAL! Pretty much the same warning came about transmission fluid. CHECK THE TRANSMISSION FLUID. IF ITS BROWN OR SMELLS BURNT YOUR CAR IS GOING TO PRETTY MUCH BLOW UP! REPLACE THE WINDSHIELD WIPERS BEFORE THEY DISINAGRATE AND BEGINE TO BURROW A GROVE IN YOUR WINDSHIELD! CHECK THE BREAK FLUID LEVEL OR YOUR BREAKS WILL FAIL! CHECK THE AIR PRESSURE IN YOUR TIRES! TOO HIGH OR TOO LOW AND YOU CAN LOSE CONTROL OF THE CAR! Oh, and change the oil every three months or 3000 miles. Notice that there is no dire consequences attached to the oil change advice. Are we noting that? Its like on the level of getting a hair cut. 18 years. 18 years 1 father 1 stepfather 1 gear-headed brother-in-law 1 father figure upstairs nieghbor who can make a car body out of used baking pans 1 coworker who races cars 2 cowoker whose fathers were auto machanics 9 different auto machanics, in 3 different shops fixing my 3 cars over the years. Now fast forward to now. Now has my dear chevy barretta 'Cordelia' undriveable because she was a fuel leak and a break fluid leak and they car is so old that they don't make parts for it anymore. This means I have no means of transportation at all. This means that dad has to help me purchase another car. Dad is a little exasperated. Understandably since both his daughters seem to be in financial hot water at the moment. In my dad's recent phone conversation, he was rather short, insulting and mean as if it was his grea-*test*-('") wish to be rid of us and he accused me of not taking care of my cars. How many women do you know and how many of you out there know how to check your trans fluid? Do you know where your break fluid goes? But the alligation persisted and my feeling where hurt as it was been a difficult two months as it is. I called my stepfather john in tears. he backed my father is in a more gentle way. I argued. Dammit!!! Then it little footnote came out. Changing the oil. Not changing the oils isn't too good for the car. Not too good. Not catastrophic. just 'not good'. Making sure there was oil IN the car was put with more vehimence. I blew three head gaskets. Once in the station wagon and Twice in Cordelia. When was the tribe of men consisting of: 1 father 1 stepfather 1 gear-headed brother-in-law 1 father figure upstairs nieghbor who can make a car body out of used baking pans 1 coworker who races cars 2 cowokers whose fathers were auto machanics 9 different auto machanics, in 3 different shops fixing my 3 cars over the years going to tell me that YES IN FACT IT WAS YOUR NOT CHANGING YOUR FREKING OIL ENOUGH THAT BLEW YOUR HEAD GASKETS ON TWO DIFFERENT CARS RESULTING IN $4,800 OF DAMAGE TO MY ENGINES. You would have thought that one of them would have seized me by my ears and shook me screaming YOU MUST REMEMBER TO CHANGE YOUR OIL IN A TIMELY FASHION!!!!!! YOU MUST REMEMBER TO CHANGE YOUR OIL IN A TIMELY FASHION!!! REPEAT AFTER ME YOU MUST REMEMBER TO CHANGE YOUR OIL IN A TIMELY FASHION!!!! See, this is why people get frustrated with me. Though I am possessed with above adverage intelligence and have been told i am bright -- I have "blind spots" in my brain. Part of the learning disorders. Like the time it took a year for me to realize I hadn't menstruated in that span of time. I mean who doesn't realize you haven't had your period for a year? Someone like me. Okay so NOW that the consequences of not changing my oil in a timely fashion has been put to me in more suffient terms. I will change my freking oil in a timely fashion. Anyway back to my poor Cordelia: Once again it started with a conversation with my father "Let's just face facts here....you were born under the sucky car star" Said my father, after receiving the news that my dear sweet 'Cordelia' (my 1994 Chevy barretta) may be terminally ill. "Seriously," He continued. "The worst F***King luck of anyone I know." 'Cordelia' had been acting horribly. Driving fine, but every time the break is employed; she gags and comes to a rattling, coking stall. It takes several attempts to get her running again. It must be the fuel filter. Its pretty much the ONLY thing I haven't changed on the car. It was too rusted for my Bro-in-law to do it, so I called the local garages. It seems that changing the fuel filter on a car as old as mine turns into an apocalypse. "As the fuel filter is removed, all the lines attached crumble into dust." Ron 3:14 STS "..and then there was a deafening crack, and the gas tank fell having been rusted though." Jim 4:12 Chester Auto Well, why don't we just have a little looky and see if the auto apocalypse is upon me. Up the car went into the sky and Jim stood under, hands on hips. And then the men from far and near gathered in awe, pointing and murmuring amongst themselves. They motioned me forth. There before me was the back end of my car looking like it had rose from the depths of the sea. *blink* What was the most perplexing was that the front underside was nearly perfect up to the middle of the car. From the middle back, it looked like a shipwreck. The fuel filter was rusted in place. The shocks and struts were, quite literally, crumbling in the gentle spring breeze, carried adrift like dandelion fluff The break line was rusted through allowing pinprick leaks of fluid The fuel line was the same, little pinprick leaks of fuel. Everything else was unrecognizable by man. The fuel lines are no longer made for this car. Even if they were, it would be an $800 to a $2,000 job. Lo! from atop the highest point of the town, I could hear Dude, The Archangel of Cars sound his kazoo. And thus, the first seal was broken with the cry and thunder of my pounding my head against the car lifting thingy. And a deep nasally voice spoke, "Despair Not! For Lo! There is chocolate chip ice cream not two steps yonder. Go, you poor retched Chick. Take your fill and consult with thy mother." I took my fill and went forth to my mother. And my mother said. "Well, I guess you're in trouble then, huh." Then my mother's mother spoke forth, "Give some brownies. They will comfort and warm her spirit." Then my mother spoke onto her mother. "No, she's fat enough--she just had ice cream." And my mother of my mother spoke onto her daughter. "Just give her some F***king brownies. And make sure they have GOBS of frosting. She has to have GOBS of frosting in her time of trial." The Archangel Dude was awaiting me. "So, like, what she say?" My look was enough. "Ah, I see that thy mother's tongue is, like, not so nice. Come retched chick, we shall have some Red Bull and Twinkies." "Pray no. I need not Twinkies, but a Percocet and some Xanax and to go into a deep dark room until the migraine passes." "Thoust should'nt've pummeled thy head on the car lifts. But, like, Despair not! Go forth and consult with thy father.” Looketh toward the heavens, I shall not leave you, babe.” With the wavering burst from his heavenly kazoo, he returned to the clouds. And the Arch-Demon, Metastophoo ruler of the 13th Circle of Hell -- Taxes, bestowed upon my father his tax refund. And my father shall go forth into the world and find me a car that is "absolutely mechanically sound. I don't care what it f**king looks like" I will regale you of tales from my "sheri attempts yard work" and the Toadie Pond of Death -- the more recent epic chapters in my life after I find a therapist that makes housecalls. Ooo loook!! Kitties!!!!! :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: :kitty: