By the way, I'd like to welcome any newcomers to the site.
Seriously though, I think that statement needs some explanation.
My car, the reason I exist, recently lost a bolt from it's exhaust manifold which exposed a hole big enough to make the engine really loud while simultaneously stealing all my power. So I went to the auto store yesterday and bought a plug for it. Problem solved. Till I lost the plug.
So I went back to the auto store (this was a few weeks later) and they couldn't find a plug like the last one they sold me at that very store.
Yes, shit like that happens to me all the time.
So an hour and several failed attempts later we find that the reason we can't find a plug that fits, and indeed the reason why I lost the last one, is because the hole I was trying to plug was where a piece of emissions equipment was once plugged in.
See, my car was built in 1974 (model year 1975) and is officially an antique. This is funny when you know that the car is the same age I am. Anyways, that was right about the time they began putting smog controls and such on vehicles. Most of these devices were immediately removed and thrown away. I think my Dad (the original purchaser of the car) actually disconnected most of it before he drove it off the lot.
Making a short story long, they began using a thread pattern on emissions parts so you couldn't remove them and just stick a bolt in there in it's place.
They don't sell plugs with 'emissions thread'.
Well, I'm sure someone does somewhere, but they make them a pain to find.
But the auto industry does strange things sometimes, and so do I. By trial and error I discovered that they did produce something that uses that same thread pattern to keep you from sticking something where they think you oughtn't go sticking things.
Yes, SPARK PLUGS use emissions thread.
Yes, I do realize that I am a fucking genius.
So now there's a spark plug sticking out of my exhaust manifold. Cost me $1.62.
So fresh from that triumph I had to go to the doctor today because of an infection in my leg. I'll spare you the gory details, but it's something that keeps happening and nobody knows why. All they do is look at me and say, "Well, you know losing some weight might help." like nobody else ever thought to fucking say that.
Gee thanks Doc.
This infection has happened many times in the past. I know exactly what the symptoms are when it's coming on. I know what it's going to do. I know what I need to stop it. Problem is, the medication is prescription-only, so I have to go wait for two hours in a waiting room with nothing but 'Woman's Day' and 'Highlights for Children' magazines (that Goofus is a hoot) for a goddamn, goofy-ass, fucking doctor to repeat to me exactly what I told the fucking receptionist.
And then they charge me $65 and give me my prescription.
28 pills = $95.
So counting the spark plug I'm out $156.62.
To top everything off, I don't know if it's allergies or a cold, or maybe even a reaction to the drugs, but I feel like I have an upper-respiratory infection.
For those of you that have never had one, it feels like this: Imagine that someone hit you in the chest with a moderately sized refrigerator, laid you out on your back and then piled 16 lb. bowling balls on you.
So I'm tired as hell, but I can't sleep, I'm hungry, but I can't eat, I'm in a great amount of pain and there's nothing on fucking TV.
Oh, Brian want's me to give him credit for that last link and it's accompanying line. Everyone be sure to thank him and call him a little wussy bitch.