A new ride and bad pain
Sorry for the rambling nature of this post. You have my permission to blame the drugs.
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So what happens when you realize - midway through your devious plot to take over the world by producing and training your own crowd of Evil Geniuses - that your only means of transport is a much-abused Mercury Mini-van (emphasis on mini) with 230k miles on it? You're light on cash but ... what would happen if said mini-van took a shit? How would you transport The Brood? We all know that Murphy's Law states that the instant my ride breaks down one of the kids will trip on a Matchbox car, fall down the steps, and bust his head open on a Duplo. And what about future wee cads and ner-do-wells? I can only get 4 carseats in that Merc.
So what do I do? Why I buy another car! YEAH! Fuck the money! And not just a car but a van that will hold a full compliment of nefarious characters! And no pussy mini-van either, by golly, but a BIG van! A great ugly grey Mopar Montrosity of a Dodge Ram Van, bay-bee!
Yow!
What do you think?
Now the problem is this: did the oily little shyster from whom I bought this thing tell me anything close to the truth about it? I drove it and so I know it's missing on one cylinder. There's also an alignment problem. I only paid about half of what I had budgeted for buying a van so the question at hand is: how much will repairs cost me? Will I be able to have it fixed for the amount of money that I have left? Or will I end up with a really expensive place to store goat feed?
These and other questions. I'm picking it up Tuesday. Hopefully my mechanic will look at it without falling about the place laughing. I'll keep you updated.
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And now in the way-more-than-I-ever-wanted-to-know category I offer this: Sorry If I seem rather crabby for a while (or, erm, crabbier than usual) but my new son and I have thrush. Thrush is a yeast infection. Yeast (candida albicans) lives on your body all the time. It becomes a problem when it decides to turn all Pinky and the Brain and take over the world - in it's case whatever warm, moist portion of your body it can seize.
A fave vacation spot for candida is a nursing baby's mouth. Aaaaand what part(s) of Momma does his mouth touch aproximately 172 times a day?
BOOBIES!
Now before some of you blokes waft off into fantasy land, lemme construct a simile: Imagine someone vigourously sandpapers the head of your dick. Yes. Sandpaper. Dick. OK, now imagine that that same person reappears in an hour, puts a gun to your head and says: "Jack off! Now!" then comes back in another hour and another ...
All together now: FUCKING OWCH!
Fortunately thrush is a) easily curable and b) doesn't cause the baby any discomfort at all but in the meantime I may seem a bit testy. Well ... only 172 times a day. All other times I'll be fine.
Promise.
-----
So what happens when you realize - midway through your devious plot to take over the world by producing and training your own crowd of Evil Geniuses - that your only means of transport is a much-abused Mercury Mini-van (emphasis on mini) with 230k miles on it? You're light on cash but ... what would happen if said mini-van took a shit? How would you transport The Brood? We all know that Murphy's Law states that the instant my ride breaks down one of the kids will trip on a Matchbox car, fall down the steps, and bust his head open on a Duplo. And what about future wee cads and ner-do-wells? I can only get 4 carseats in that Merc.
So what do I do? Why I buy another car! YEAH! Fuck the money! And not just a car but a van that will hold a full compliment of nefarious characters! And no pussy mini-van either, by golly, but a BIG van! A great ugly grey Mopar Montrosity of a Dodge Ram Van, bay-bee!
Yow!
What do you think?
Now the problem is this: did the oily little shyster from whom I bought this thing tell me anything close to the truth about it? I drove it and so I know it's missing on one cylinder. There's also an alignment problem. I only paid about half of what I had budgeted for buying a van so the question at hand is: how much will repairs cost me? Will I be able to have it fixed for the amount of money that I have left? Or will I end up with a really expensive place to store goat feed?
These and other questions. I'm picking it up Tuesday. Hopefully my mechanic will look at it without falling about the place laughing. I'll keep you updated.
-----
And now in the way-more-than-I-ever-wanted-to-know category I offer this: Sorry If I seem rather crabby for a while (or, erm, crabbier than usual) but my new son and I have thrush. Thrush is a yeast infection. Yeast (candida albicans) lives on your body all the time. It becomes a problem when it decides to turn all Pinky and the Brain and take over the world - in it's case whatever warm, moist portion of your body it can seize.
A fave vacation spot for candida is a nursing baby's mouth. Aaaaand what part(s) of Momma does his mouth touch aproximately 172 times a day?
BOOBIES!
Now before some of you blokes waft off into fantasy land, lemme construct a simile: Imagine someone vigourously sandpapers the head of your dick. Yes. Sandpaper. Dick. OK, now imagine that that same person reappears in an hour, puts a gun to your head and says: "Jack off! Now!" then comes back in another hour and another ...
All together now: FUCKING OWCH!
Fortunately thrush is a) easily curable and b) doesn't cause the baby any discomfort at all but in the meantime I may seem a bit testy. Well ... only 172 times a day. All other times I'll be fine.
Promise.
posted by MrsEvilGenius at 3:03 PM
2 Comments:
oh god bless yah - *so* much going on it sounds like you could use something positive to happen right about now...
Oh wow. I never got thrush, but I did get mastitis with the boy. Yowie yowie yowie. I am all kinds of sympathetic, dear.
As far as the van ... wow, that is one big-ass van. We dodged the conversion van route by finding a nice Asshole (Astro) Van. Legally I can transport 6 in carseats in it, but illegally on the back country roads I've gotten as many as 9 in it. I loooooooove my Asshole Van. I look at other "mini" vans and scoff at their puny size and kid-transport capabilities.
God bless you, Blue. Hang in there. You gots guts. You'll survive.
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