TYRANICAL MECHANICAL

when it comes to the corral of people i've acquired over the many years...

i've know those who are absolute whores...

and i have known those who are absolute bores! i of course have learned to balance myself in between both worlds without point'n fingers

i have had my many shares of ups and downs dur'in my Minne-apple life

and by that i mean there were times i wasn't really up fer goin down on anybody...no matter how much of a tooth chipper they were or need'n their throat plunged

i can recall once how i had had all i could take and my cracks were about

to leak (BUTT i ain't talk'n about my plump A double snakes...well...not this time anyways)

so there i was doin' my non sexual charitable act of the week late one nite 

back in the mid millennium era durin' the holiglazed season after doin my sexual charitable act of the week (don't point yer paws at me kittens...i'm not dead) fer the low low price of 5 benjamins play'n taxi cabber to one of my longest and almost dearest friends...well there was that one incident involve'n an orange wedge stuffed with some colorful narcotic...

 that i was give'n unbeknownst to me fer an afternoon snack just fer their twisted pleasure when i lived in a 1 bedroom with 6 colorful castaways in Dinkytown back in '93 that oops'd herself into the "sleep'n with one eye open" category fer the next 6 years after i jumped out of our 2nd story bathroom...however...i’ve learned to look past the insanity of  that day & have patched up any bad blood years later

my piece of crap death mobile that i got by default thanx to catholick guilt

 from my not so dear uncle who was forced into a raisin ranch...had decided that it didn't wanna go on a nightly rendezvous this one particular even'n...instead...decided to toss a fuck'n attitude on my way to pick up said friend

now i'm the 1st to admit that i'm not particularly mechanically inclined to

  know exactly what it means when things start to rattle and shake concern'n my mobile especially when the lights started flicker'n on my dashboard like they were compete'n at some downtown disco competition...my simple thought process just told me immediately that if i don't wanna hear the clank'n and clatter'n...pull up yer culottes like any normal unintentionally internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of their own universe with a personal disdain fer mechanics in general and just solve the problem on yer own by turn'n the damn music up to go along with the flash'n lights on the disco dashboard and *POOF* problem solved...right?

well eventually i was gett'n exhausted by my shitty car's exhaust slowly

consume'n the oxygen inside of my car as i rolled the windows down before i was down and out behind the wheel and in the end suffered thru the indignation of the black friday chaos with no immediate p-r-o-b-l-e-m-s except fer the fact that i fergot to call ahead to the store thus denied the red carpet treatment that i thought i deserved at this point

after a nauseate'n 20 minutes breath'n in the stale air of filth and regret...

with the bedless...bathless and beyond annoy'n pack of black friday wolves...we finally packed up our purchases and on our way we were...or so i thought!

once outside to start the car...it decided to start give'n me smart aleck

 back talk immediately as i turned the key and although i chanted some delusional meaningless nam you renge kyo's to the universe...my fuck'n shit mobile had just committed suicide right there in the park'n lot...it was deader than my libido at that point

thankfully i was as calm as a cucumber as calm as a cuntasaurus can be 

at this point after goin thru the candy land of prompts to finally reach a fuck'n live agent at my insurance company and like any true friend to comfort you in the middle of yer crisis...

she decided to defuse my blown out fuse and to use one of her last lifelines with me and phone a friend

about 60 minutes later...Speedy Gonzalez finally showed up and had me

backed into the backseat of my car and jacked up my skirt back behind my wheels in 1.5 minutes flat...that's the quickest anyone's gotten me off and runn'n (at no cost...to date) he just asked fer my insurance policy and had me sign on the dotted line...he couldn't read my serial killer penmanship and said "i don't need yer cell number sir" i replied slyly "don't be so sure!" he clapped back with "i just need yer name" to which i seductively said "you can just call me TONITE...i mean it!"

by morn'n everything seemed like normal...i had my morn'n protein shake

 (and YES i don't mean some sausage syrup sicko's) and was ready to head out and watch the narcissistic parade of pole puffers at the gym

insert'n the key into the ignition...i was ready to get the day roll'n...

unfortunately as i turned the key once again with my fingers crossed...FUUUUUUUUUUCK!

after send'n out smoke signals to my encyclopedia of pseudo friends...

i figered it wouldn't hurt fer some back up...so i whored myself out online...thankfully a passerby didn’t pass me by and jumped me…i mean my car and off i was once again...goin directly to the closet automotive hospital to figer out what the actual fickle stix was actually wrong with my cartastrophe

a simple smooth ride with no worries in sight...the cool crisp february air

 blow'n thru my follically challenged scalp...in concert sing'n back-up with LORETTA LYNN's "YOU AIN'T WOMAN ENOUGH TO TAKE MY MAN" then all of a sudden F-U-U-U-U-U-U-C-K! a few blocks from my destination i noticed that my dashboard started back at the discotheque with all the arrows have'n an epileptic seizure and me about to go back into ape shit mode... 

cuz i was drive'n behind Miss Colostomy Bag 2016 in who was move'n at the speed of Helen Keller in a burn'n build'n

i managed to move one half block where again...my car had had enough 

and laid to rest on the side of the road away from any and all traffic...damn! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY CALGON?

once again...after hunt'n down live help with the annoy'n prompts...

i was told the ETA was just an hour away however i had ants in my pants and death plots to consider and with a dead battery...not only in my car...but

 also on my cell...i knew i hadda act quick so i quickly posted another plea online on by post'n a pic of "me" broken down o the side of the road on SCRUFF or Throatplungers.com i can’t remember off hand to be honest

request messages came in from near and far...one by one...the horny lil toads

logged off their accounts in droves and logged in my exact coordinance into their GPS systems...bottoms all over the metro area were in mourn'n that morn'n...a candle vigil was almost eminent although after pillage'n thru the plethora of promises to save my sorry A double bubble snakes from turn'n into a popsicle if i'd just give them a jump before they jumped my car (i cannot confirm nor deny that last scenario just happened to pop in my head as i recalled this day)

my knight in a half shiny white truck finally showed up and off we were

well...after almost 4 1/2 hours & bein' raped of about 460 benjamins later...

i was left with thee most completely unexpected and wondrous experience i had ever experienced at any automotive clinic in my life...i was give'n a free car wash...a bottle of their finest expired H2O and offered a complimentary hand job in the john by some John (hey…it could happen!) unfortunately they only encourage ritual bathin's plus it's apparently not a prerequisite to own all yer own teeth at this establishment...it's just a luxury if you have them all

needless to say...i declined their very generous offer and went about my mary way

but ALL happy end'ns unfortunately must come to an end...at a cost...

and this fairy tale ended exactly 2 days & 75 more benjamins later when another mechanic that ended up give'n me an oil change...said i needed to replace the belt asap before i planned on leave'n town to Peetrinella's xmas exchange so i called the 1st mechanic back ask'n why they didn't notice that the belt was cracked since they hadda check the belt change'n the alternator in the 1st place to begin with and of course he try'd explain'n his way outta it in some egytian hieroglyphic scarecrow bullshit way...

nevertheless...i figered my only solution at this point in life was to find another cheaper...untrustworthy lip service agent and then some meat headed mechanic to fuck like my X so i don't get fuck'd over ever again! hope you enjoyed my ride from H-E-double hockey stix...oh and just to be proactive here...i'm take'n applications fer future mechanics with throat plunge'n payment plans so PM me yer deets

now GET OFF MY DRESS!

HOUSTON...we have A PROBLEM!

we've all had those days when nothin' and every thing and everyone 

include'n those cock suck'n mutha fuck'n pig slutt'n demon whores are totally test'n every last nerve course'n thru yer milky white flesh...well in moments like these...i'll try and press the pause button...take in a couple deep breaths and rearrange my chakra (once i figered out where the fuck i put it) and image i'm the Nutbush City goddess Miss Turner recite'n in my brains over and over "big wheels keep on turn'n...proud mary keeps on burn'n"

after of course i throw on my gold lame fringe nitey (cuz i'd look pretty fuck'n stupid without it on now wouldn't i kittens?) spinn'n around like Wonder Woman circa the 1970's just like i used to on the playgrounds in 2nd grade at Jefferson Elementary in my babyshit brown hopalong cassidy shit kickers hope'n that i can resolve any and all issues eat'n away at my supplely plump A double snakes at the time…however...suffice it to say...this proud Mary's wheels' were no longer turn'n and i was just burn'n up...lemme explain!

well sure as shit as MEATLOAF was overcooked recently so was my last 

nerve when i hopped into my car on a cold and blistery nite with winds outta the west from 5 to 10 miles per hour... 

after leave'n the BETTY WHITE tribute movie about her tremendous career to the entertainment world at my local AMC theater (which to go off on a mini rant fer a moment) watch the tribute on Netflix...it's the same damn thing outside of the 11 second kudo's BETTY sends to her fans that she prerecorded 10 days before her pass'n that i basically paid a $1 a second to hear on a big screen (which even on another side note) her make-up artist should'a been shot!

what in the fiddler's fuck was up with those "MOMMIE DEAREST"  via FAYE DUN-IT-HER-WAY eyebrows? 

why oh why did her make-up artist/photographer draw em on with a damn crayola marker she found under the couch cuz she ran outta pencil and make it look like BETTY was make'n a hostage video? any'who'z'll'ding...

as a special added bonus the fuck'n pampered shitter (who i'm sure wasn't masked) whine'n 3 rows behind fer roughly 30 minutes cuz their hormonally selfish Karen/Ken owner didn't wanna pay the damn babysitter

so where was i? oh yea...so i slip my key into the ignition and give it a turn

when all of a sudden my shit mobile decided to cop an attitude with me and started give'n some shade...well i'm an internationally unknown perform'n illusionist of my own universe kittens...i don't speak automotive and frankly at 10 o'clock at nite i really shouldn't have to take smart attic back talk 

when it already felt like the planet HOTH outside…

turn'n my jingle bells into klick klackers though luckily i managed to make it home without any highway incidents 

and crawled under my Tracy Turnblad prom dress comforter to search the informational highway in order to find out the cure fer my car’s current sickness before drift'n off

by morn'n i had resumed my research and matched my current situation

with a small $14 part plus tax that i hadda purchase and contacted a friend on the outer reaches of my universe in a foreign country called Hudson WI and he booked himself on the earliest flight and flew to my  place to replace the part that i knew if i took it into a shop...some mechanic would'a bent me over the hood of my car and have to loose my dignity before i'd ever get my keys back and if it were a perfect world...so would be my mechanic and i would have zero issues lick'n bird shit off my hood...as he went under mine

BUTT...and you knew it was come'n eventually didn't you?

though my foreign friend from across the galaxy eventually replaced

the much needed part in the bitter cold that i had so rigorously researched and was assured by youtubers that this in fact was the only issue to cure the canker sore in my car...however...by morn'n as i jumped into my winter gear and spritzed myself down with some essence from 2007 created by our dearly departed purple paisley MN native bucket of pubic hair...

my shitmobile started give'n me more smart attic backtalk and decided to toss a fit by refuse'n to budge from my park'n lot so i could refuel my body and unfortunately hadda call fer back up which in turn turned out that my mechanical fantasy would have to be put on hold as some ritually bathed Cooter came to my rescue

it would take a whole 6 days later before i would finally become 

reunited with my vehicle and trust me when i say...this was no PEACHES AND HERB production cuz IT DID NOT FEEL SO GOOD!

not only did i not have a chance in H-E-double hockey stix of try'na 

work out some sorta "deal" in the break room with my diesel engine doctor...i would be forced to either take out a small bank loan after only bein months away from the one i was forced to take out 3 years prior or work a double downtown on those cold and lonely after bar sidewalk sale nites...unfortunately at my advanced age (though my "stock's" are still up without any help from ANY fornicational pharmaceutical companies) 

i'm lucky if i can get any canned goods fer my "goods" so i opted fer door #1 which was another damn 3 year loan and of course wouldn't you know they stopped give'n out complimentary boxes of CALGON to take me awaaaaay!

though i completely understand all to well the painful world of own'n yer

very own shitmobile to tool around town at yer own leisure ever since i was 26...here's my question? if we can put a man on the moon...circle the stars and beyond to other galaxies far far away...

be subjected to countless...beyond expensive international war games of who's dick is bigger...

then why the fuck can't we go back to friendlier greener ways of transportation...whether it be via broom stick...

toe tapp'n glittery blood clot slippers together...

or beam'n us up? past generations wrote out the damn road maps...HELLOOOOOOO E-L-O-N it's time to fill in the fuck'n dots mister

and GET OFF MY DRESS!