5-28-96
Good evening people and welcome to Horse Shit Village, a master planned community of crap. Let me let you in on the wonderful ‘haps of the day. This morning was the final walk-through and inspection on the property. The butt-munch termite guy was an hour and a half late, so I got to hang out with eighty year old Mr. Smith [the owner] and shoot the shit.

He told me the same five stories of his life that he told me the other three times I’d been there. And then he asked me again if I was the one buying the house. The poor old sod’s lost a few marbles from his Chinese Checkers game– I mean that lovingly.

Anyway, now I’m late for work and blasting down the 202 freeway. My car starts wobbling with the foreboding forewarning of bubbled rubber at the rear right…

BLOWOUT!

With haunting coincidence, I slugged to the shoulder at the very spot Ben pulled to when his driveline blew not two months prior. So with a song on my lips and joy in my heart, I bail out to check the damage. A huge piece of the tread and sidewall had blasted away leaving steel cord and shredded rubber asunder, but miraculously the tire was still holding air.

And oh yeah, I didn’t spin out over the guard rail to my death– so that was another good thing.

I limped the car down the now legendary 32nd street offramp and all the way to work. I knew I was gonna change it sooner or later, but as long as my luck was holding out why not push it?

After work I went to change the tire but couldn’t get the lugs loose with the short-handled wrench that comes with the car. Yay! So I drove the tire two more miles to an Exxon with garage services. The garage closed at 6:00 and it’s now 7:15 so I threw on my best “down and out” face and asked if the guy could do me a favor. Eddie was his name and he obliged, so I hooked him up with a ten spot and Mr. Bluebird was on my shoulder.

[Shit, that sounded like I just bought an after hours ten dollar gas station BJ from a dude.]

Driving home, the car performed splendidly and on my voicemail there was a message. Yes, can you believe it? Yet another problem with the lender. Remember our friend Mr Bluebird? He shit on my shoulder and flew away laughing.

Let’s also remember that the seller is signing closing papers tomorrow at 11:00am. A regular feast of fun, huh? Does corn-filled log licking contest come to mind? That’s life my friends– I’ll give 110% but take what I can get.

5-29-96
MINI UPDATE: Working on getting a new lender– we still have a sliver of a chance to get the house…

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