fuck it, i’m getting a new car.
i still owe like 22 months on the lemon, but honestly, even if they lump that shit into a new car, i’m sure i’d have better luck with a horse-drawn buggy over this piece of shit.
Tag: cars
Here we go again
Yesterday, right as I rolled into Zombieland, the odometer on the lemon struck 100,000. This is now the third car I’ve now pushed over the 100,000 mile plateau. Granted only one of them was genuinely my own 100,000 (and 200,000) miles, but for what it’s worth, my current car, the lemon, is now officially considered worthless, as many cars are seen as damaged goods once they start utilizing the sixth digit.
And in my case, as evidenced by the ominously glowing check engine light that I’m flicking off, the lemon actually is damaged goods at this point. Later on today, I’m taking my car into, of all places, the stealership, because I’m tired of local, independent mechanics not knowing what to do with my car, and I’m blindly putting faith in the notion that Mazda mechanics that work at a Mazda dealership’s service shops, might actually know what to do with my Mazda. To add to the irony of the whole situation, I went and got the diagnostic code pulled from an AutoZone, which came out to be P0421 – in Mazda-speak it means catalytic converter problem, or something breathing related, as it pertains to the engine. To which the added irony is that such symptoms was what my old car’s check engine light was coming up as.
Either way, congraturation to me, for driving around yet another car with a billion miles on it again. As great as it would be for this one to also reach another 100,000 miles, I sure as shit wouldn’t bank on it.
Yet more car irony
Last year, I exhibited a bit of urgency in selling my old car and acquiring what I’m driving now, because of time-sensitive nature of the necessity of emissions testing and car tag renewals. I had a check engine light on in my old Sentra that was O2 sensor-related; both circumstances which would have easily led to failing any emissions test, that would have necessitated an expensive repair of the O2 sensor, for a car on its last legs. So in a way, it was a persistent check engine light that ultimately resulted in the decision to get a new car.
Today, coming home from the airport in the lemon, the check engine light came on while I was driving through a Dunkin’ Donuts for some coffee. Yippee.
I’m hoping it’s just a false alarm from god-knows-what reasoning, and that it’ll be gone the next time I start up my car, but I really highly fucking doubt it. And the best part is that I still have two years left to pay on this piece of shit, so no escape clause available this time around. Just can’t win with the lemon, apparently.
God’s car
Apparently, God drives a Chevy Cavalier.
In other amusement brought on by automobiles, on my way home from work the other day, I was mildly irritated when everyone on the road slammed their brakes, bringing traffic to a dangerously instantaneous crawl.
It was caused by a Ford Festiva passing an overly encumbered (full of fat fucks) Lincoln Towncar. Hahahahaha.
Brogging of the mundane
Burglary update
I finally managed to get a hold of the Fulton County prosecutor aide in regards to the thugs that tried to rob my home back in October. Honestly, given the lack of effort exerted by the county, I figured that I had heard the last of them after the initial arrest of the hoods. I called every number and contact I was given, with no response. In fact, I had to hound this person in order to respond to a letter they had sent to me. Apparently wanted to let me know that their bond pleas have been denied a second time, and one more denial, and then they’re going to actual, court-court. But it’s comforting to know that since their arrest back on October 27th, they’ve been in jail since.
BHM query: Why the aversion to using turn signals?
After the first few queries, a tiny part of me kind of felt guilty, a little remorseful that I was making posts like these. Slightly reluctant to buy into the popular notion that I’m not so much of a critical individual not afraid to speak about the taboo topic of racial stereotypes, but just a straight up racist (which I vehemently deny, since that would mean I hate 100% of a particular demographic which is genuinely false).
But all that guilt was quickly washed away this morning, when my leisurely drive into work today was soured by an impatient, militant pitbull of a black woman who decided to lay down on the horn of her car because I couldn’t read minds. Which brings me to the latest query in honor of Black History Month:
What in history led to the modern day aversion that black people have with utilizing turn signals?
Continue reading “BHM query: Why the aversion to using turn signals?”
BHM query: Using the mailbox from inside the car
This morning, I had a close call, when a black female cop almost rear-ended me for going the posted 25 mph speed limit on a road that she typically monitors like a Nazi. Because, she was trying to multitask and was on her in-car computer (yeah, she was that close that I could tell what she was doing), probably running my plates looking for an excuse to pull me over since I was obviously obliging to the speed limit. And then she almost rear-ended me again when I actually came to a complete stop at the posted stop sign. My annoyance in the world rose again to where I remembered I was doing something this month.
What historic events led to African-Americans insisting on retrieving mail from their mailbox from within their cars?
Continue reading “BHM query: Using the mailbox from inside the car”