My free time has been unfortunately curtailed by my current freelance gig, which means I haven�t as much time to spend carrying on about my trials and tribulations here at Memoirs of an Evil Genius. However, if I did not take at least a little time to kvetch and whine about shit, I think I would lose my mind. Ergo:
Stewart has been holding up admirably in the wake of last Monday�s unfortunate accident, wherein some lady driving a fucking Sherman Tank kicked his poor little Volkswagen ass up around his ears and sent him hurtling into the spacious trunk of a sedan. Sure, his grill is lopsided and scrapes on the asphalt now, and okay, so he�s so scratched up it looks like I tried to clean him off with steel wool, but he�s been extremely reliable! I�ve been doing all this freeway driving lately, and he�s been just great.
Incidentally, why the fuck do they persist in calling them �free�-ways and �express�-ways? I would aver that any implication that traffic either moves faster or with less complication on these thoroughfares is tantamount to fraud. If I�m riding my clutch for ten miles and never get the car out of third for the first half-hour I�m on the road, there ain�t nothing �express� about it.
Anyway, Stewart�s been doing quite well, and making me proud. Which is why I had a conniption fit this morning when his turn signals stopped working. Like, I go to flip them on, and�nothing. No blinking, no clicking, no warning lights on the console alerting me to electrical failure�just silence. And I know this isn�t the worst thing that ever happened, but it is marvelously inconvenient, especially for one doing so much �express�-way driving, as I believe I mentioned I have been.
So all day today I was driving around signaling my turns by hand. I mean, that�s old school, you guys. Sticking your hand out your driving side window to indicate that you�re about to turn, or merge? And it�s not terribly practical, either. No one understands hand signals anymore. Well, they understand a couple, I guess, but neither of those particular hand signals mean �left� or �right�, if you catch my drift.
And what am I supposed to do when crawling along the �free�-way? If ever it actually starts moving at its intended speeds of 65+ miles per hour, it won�t be very intelligent to go sticking my arm out the window every time I need to switch lanes. And when it doesn�t move, turn signals are the only indicator you really have that you need to get over, short of just cutting people off and hoping they�re alert enough not to plow into you (I need not point out where that logic has failed in the past). And it�s not like people in the right lane can actually see my stupid hand sticking out the window in any case. Even if they did, they�d probably just think I was waving at them or something.
Anyway, I can�t get my car fixed until I hear back from my insurance company, at which point I lose my transportation indefinitely while the mechanics examine my vehicle, determine that it will cost more than the estimate (which is so obviously inevitable that the very fact they are making me undergo the process at all is insulting and offensive to my personal nature), bring the adjustor in to reassess, file a supplementary claim, get approval, and finally repair it. So, basically, I�m getting cozy with hand signals. One in particular.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: �2 for 1 sign� And: I gave my boyfriend a handjob I�m Watching: 24. Last year I was all about Kim power, but this year? Pshht. I�m Craving: A hot fudge brownie sundae with caramel.