(no subject)

[phosfate]

Not Bennet, Walton. I always get that wrong.

Drove the car out to Bill. It went like a kitten for the first mile or so, but then steamed up again at 33rd Street. Bill suspects hoses. Bill's assistant, whose name I can never remember even though he's the nicest man on the planet, drove me back in his giant truck.

I told him about the thing with the timing belt and Matt. We did our little Midwestern dance of extreme politeness, since we are not a trash-talking people, but we eventually agreed that Matt is a goddamn tool.

I am just glad that the engine is making steam, and not fire. It may have been doing this for a couple of days -- the ran has been so hard and so nonstop that any vapor was invisible against the rain froth.

I do hope I have money for this.

Comments

[annlarimer.livejournal.com]

:D You're gonna need 'em to buy, like, food an' junk.