Monday, April 25, 2011

grease monkey...that funky monkey

Cars are something I know very little about. [Tangent: When I learned to drive a couple years ago and was in the car buying process, I had about 3 options of mini vans, because that's about all that fit my adaptation specifications. I selected the one that looked the least like a pedofile's getaway car.  Even though all the vans I considered were missing a second row of seating so I could  exit and enter with grace and ease, thus making them look like a rape wagon to the untrained eye. Not making it better- I still (for some inexplicable reason) have a Wright Middle School visitors pass stuck to my visor from when I spoke for my friend Amber's class a year ago. It's a wonder perverted justice isn't staking me out.] I know even less about car maintainence. Ex: I just learned that one is not supposed to wait a year before getting an oil change. Who tells you these kinds of things?

The chocolate love wagon has been mine for 2 years this month and she has only gotten 2 oil changes and 2 professional baths. Some may call this irresponsibility; I call it tough love. I wouldn't her to get all spoiled and become a high maintainence bitchy automotive that needs a tanning bed allowance and a Victoria's Secret Angels card with a high line of credit. I would like to avoid that at all costs.

This week I have been trying to remedy my neglectful car ownership by running it through the car wash, vacuuming it out and getting the overwhelming coffee fragrance out of the floor mats. My van looked so sassy, I thought I would go balls out and get an oil change, which is something I only thought to do because I found a coupon when switching desks at work. [Tangent: I am perhaps the cheapest person on the planet and 95% of my life decisions are dependent on whether or not I get some sort of discount. Seriously, boys, the line starts here...] Or rather, I gave my dad the free oil change coupon and asked him to handle it. He likes projects and sitting in garages all day reading year old magazines, so I thought he was an excellent candidate. My father also takes the act of haggling to an olympic level.  When I am not being horribly embarassed by his persuasive frugality, I like to use to it my benefit. [Tangent: In fact, among my friends- his name has been made into a verb meaning "getting it done." The best example of this vigilante schmoozing is when my dad bought dish washing soap instead of laundry detergent at the grocery because it was on the wrong shelf (...and not to mention, he wasn't wearing his glasses.). Because of this error, he ruined a whole load of laundry. The next day- a word here and a word there...and Bibboty bobbity BOOM! The manager at Publix is buying him a bunch of new sweaters. That's some Harry Potter kinda shit.]
he will mind freak you...

To learn from my Jedi Master/father, I went with him to go to the tire place, which upon entering was appropriately blasting the terrible Rascal Flatt's reboot of "Life is a Highway." *shudder*  I will say if you are not getting your tire needs filled at a discount tire retailer, I feel bad for you. Because I am a loyal patron, they do any rotations, patches, balances for me free of charge as long as they are under warranty. [Tangent: As stated before, I am a moron when it comes to auto repair, so I am not even sure what all that entails, but I like the sound of "free of charge". ] Without me even having to remove the wheelchair card from the deck, my wishes are granted. It is highly likely I could go in there and request that they take of all four tires, juggle them and screw them back in...all while singing songs from the Dreamgirls soundtrack..and they would happily oblige. If I was Martha Stewart, being cheap is "a good thing."


  1. post unrelated comment... YOU HAVE THE PRETTIEST EYES!! :D :D :D

  2. Kimmie your vehicle upkeep is appalling. by numbers that puts you at SIX oil changes too few!

    Do you feed Newman?

  3. Also, are you so inundated by viagra and reverse mortgage bot posts that you need a captcha?

  4. Is your dad DAVID BLAINE?!?!?!


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