Takin' It In The Rear
I did learn a valuable lesson from this. If you’re ever confronted with unwelcome and downright shitty news, it actually helps to be feeling like crap. I was far too exhausted by my cold to indulge in any kind of emotional tantrums; a temper of retrained sangfroid was maintained throughout.
But alas, the purpose of this post is to let the world know that I have an extra ticket to the sigur ros concert this Wednesday at The Chicago Theatre (7:30 p.m.). If you or anyone you know is available to use it, send me an e-mail, or let me know in the comments, and, well... ‘tis yours. (Please note: the winner of the ticket will be sitting next to me for the duration of the concert. Take this into account before you ask for the damn thing.)
Additionally: If anyone can recommend a competent & trustworthy body shop in the Chicago area, please do so!
8 Comments:
That's a major league bummer. I had something similar happen to me but it worked out rather better...I came out to get the paper one Sunday morning and saw my Intrepid down the street trashed, as was the Honda parked in front of it. Incredibly, the guy who'd hit them both left a note (!) and owned up to it. It worked out rather well because I was trying to trade in the Intrepid for a new car and ended up getting twice for it totaled as I would have as a trade!
Poor Kelly. I hope you are feeing better, at least. Were you able to take any satisfaction from the crushing victory the Bears had over Detroit yesterday?
I couldn't really relate to your story until just a few moments after reading it. That is when I stood up and promptly knocked over my big, full mug of piping hot coffee all over my desk. Even though I had been warned that such an event was likely, I was completely unprepared for the level of devestation. It was staggering. Many of my papers simply couldn't be saved, and the catastrophe even extended to stacks of papers sitting on the floor. Hardest hit was the Ninth Ward area of my desk, a low-lying area inhabited by my keyboard. Only now, many hours later, am I finally able to slowly rebuild a sense of normalcy. Still, though the keyboard is new—and identical to the one I lost in Hurricane Caffina—the memories, the horror, are not so easy to wipe up.
Surely you can press a case against the owner of the car and/or the kid's legal guardians? You shouldn't have to deal with any of this and it seems to me that the kid's age means only that now both he and somebody else are responsible. Yes?
It hurts when I pee.
How many times do I have to tell you, Fock? You don't have to grip your dick so tightly when you're standing at the urinal. Evil gnomes are not going to steal your penis. It was just a horrible story that Richard told you. Now go back to sleep.
But I've seen the Gnomes. It's not just a story. Richard wouldn't do that.
Hey everybody! Here's my impression of Arlo and Fock having a conversation:
Fock: Duh...
Arlo: *burp*
Fock: I'm we todd did.
Arlo: Sofa king we todd did.
Fock: Duh...
Arlo: *hiccup*
Kelly's just jealous cuz we won't let him ride the short bus with us. And he's a nutsack.
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