Don't Become a mechanic

I drive a 1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass Cierra, painted all black and with half the rust colered lights is pieces. Where did I find such a fine antique? Not important, but I shall share what happened over the previous two weeks, as much as the memory pains me.

I totaled it.

I actually didn't. Go figure. I drove my little sister to the church, and while on the road was hit by a large metallic--something. I didn't see what it was, but a loud screeching filled the air, followed by waves of vibrations and the sound of gnashing metal teeth. And then--silence.

I figured it wasn't too serious. After picking up my little sister from the church, I headed over to Daniel's house with a plate of barbequed ribs and smoked chicken, hot from the grill. As to be expected from a thirteen year-old kid with a new copy of halo 3, I then procedded to struggle aimlessly against the tides of thirteen headshots, five bum-fucks, and twelve times of shooting myelf in the foot. Damn.

True, Daniel was awesome. He was the master master chief, easily popping off aliens from the side of his vision. Amazing how kids these days are so prepared to kill. Do videogames increase the child's ability to kill? Only if they're drunk. Video games allow children and, namely, the rest of humanity, to drink from the sweet sweet cup of desensitization. But to make them kill? It hardly would hamper their judgement, so they probably wouldn't go around town shooting at people for the fun of it. They get that kind of fun in the video game. Besides, there's no challenge shooting cops anymore. On the contrary, if the child wishes to kill someone in real life, there is probably a real grudge against said person. Then again, said person was probably asking for it and was dumb enough to loan the child 50 bucks for a "water pistol".

It hardly matters. There are over 500,000 convicts in the United States Penal System, obviously locking up one more juvenile delinquent is not rooting out the real cause of the problem. That would probably make for a good post someday.

So a few days later I start hearing noises from my vehicle. A slow popping sound, followed by various snapping and hinging, reaches my ears. Obviously just background noise. I keep driving. Soon the passenger side sounds like metal mario getting his head bashed in by megadeth. I get scared, and pull into a gas station to check the oil. Oil's good.

So I pull back home, an HOUR drive from the university, and just as I pull into my driveway, the axle snaps off. Clean. So I took my little sister to church one day and brought her home, went over to Daniel's pad and had a few beers. Chomped down on some really good roast barbeque, and now I get to play greasemonkey. Best national pizza month, ever.