So I had a Shultz of an evening last night.

Went to my parents' house (1 hour drive from my place) to pick up my girlfriend's Ranger that was being worked on. (having calipers replaced, along with the turn signal stalk that crapped out) We got to the shop, and the guy couldn't get the pedal to come up, no matter how much he bled the brakes. We screwed around with it for a while, then decided it must be the master cylinder, so we gave up and he will chage that out today.

On the way back across town, my beater '90 Subaru Legacy's temp gauge spiked. Turn on the heat to try to cool it down and get cold air. Great. This is what happened a few weeks ago, replaced thermostat and water pump, now it is happening again. Nurse it over to a storage warehouse Dad owns to drop it off and pick up Dad's spare car, a '96 Impala SS that was once under 6.5 feet of water.

Jump in the SS and the battery is dead. No big deal, it has been in storage all of it's life (only has 2200 miles on it) Hook up the cables, jump it off the Subaru and head on to the parents' house. When we get there, we hook up a charger to the battery and cook some dinner.

An hour and a half later, we finish a wonderful dinner of marinated pork loin, roasted potatoes, grilled asparagus, and homemade rolls. (sorry, best meal I have had in weeks; my idea of cooking is to drive to bojangles, so I had to mention that part) I head out to the SS to go on about my business, and lo and behold, it just sits there and clicks. Fan-freaking-tastic. The battery is so toasted it won't take a charge.

So now what? The only car left for me to borrow is Dad's 1963 MGB that he brought new, has put 269,000 miles on, and is in storage and driven maybe 500 miles a year. That is a great idea, Bowie! You have only killed 3 different cars so far today, and you are going to hop into a 40 year-old british roadster, at night, in the rain, to drive 50 miles on a deserted highway by yourself.

Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and that plan was scrapped. I finally went home driving my mom's '96 Ford BlunderTurd. I hate this car. The last time I drove it, the PLASTIC intake manifold cracked and stranded me. The time before, I got rear ended at a stoplight. Somehow, someway, this pig got me home safely, and to work today in the pouring-*** rain.

And tonight I am eating dinner with Shultz. I am dead.

 

Look at it this way - it can't get much worse.

 

<TABLE WIDTH="90%" CELLSPACING=0 CELLPADDING=0 ALIGN=CENTER><TR><TD>Quote, originally posted by krshultz &raquo;</TD></TR><TR><TD CLASS="quote">Look at it this way - it can't get much worse.</TD></TR></TABLE>

Oh i'm sure it could get much worse. He's only scraping the surface.... you're neck deep!

 

Yes, it can. Please refrain from spreading it any further.

--chris, who is dealing with flood damage and a big fat tree limb that fell squarely onto the Civic in last night's storm. Guess the rollover protection got a workout.

 

I had lunch with Shultz and the rest of the THSCC gang a while back. Not long after, all four of the household vehicles were dead.

* Bef's '96 Ford ToreAss had a bizzare short in it, which rendered all signals and lights inoperable before finally killing the battery.

* The wagon blew a water pump, and was undriveable.

* The Hype R was torn half apart removing Toda joy in preparation for sale.

* The Scout stranded Bef at a local shopping center. Wouldn't start just because it was pissed off. Punted and had it towed. Bet the tow guy $5 it would start right up. Made $5.

I think I'm back on even keel - I sold one of the other Tarheel guys a Hype R cat when he was in need.