So then the car springs a mysterious gas leak. Call the fire department so they can throw down some kitty litter on the spill and syphon the gas into an external 5 gallon gas tank except I don't have a syphon so Alex, being the brilliant bastard that he is, disconnects the gas line to the carb, and sticks that in the 5 gallon tank, except I don't have a 5 gallon external tank so we put it in a bucket. Then we turn on the car to get the gas pump going to pump the gas out the line to the bucket, but I don't have the keys, so he connects the pump directly to the battery using jumper cables. Did I already mention that Alex is brilliant? It's true. So I have a bunch of gas in a bucket, and now I just have to pour it into the 5 gallon tank I bought last night. With a funnel that I don't have yet.
All of this on a night when the last fucking thing on earth I wanted to do was not be at home. Thanks a lot, you fucking green piece of shit car.
Love, Me.
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1 comment:
Not quite _everything_, surely peeper? How about if I bring up some coffee cake and ridiculous amounts of stupidity for your general amusement?
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