I wrote a lengthy update Friday morning, and shitcanned the whole thing. It sounded whiny, and ball-baby bitch. And who needs that?
Here it is, tightly compacted:
Money is a concern at our house right now, so I’ve asked for permission to work sixty hours per week. My employer has granted the request, on a temporary basis. So, I’ll be working six 10-hour days, until they tell me to knock it off.
Also, my book isn’t going to be published anytime soon. My agent tells me the timing is wrong for a comic novel written by a first-time author. The economy is sucking (no shit?), and he says publishers aren’t in a mood to take a chance. It can be sold, I’m assured, but not now.
So, there ya go. I just wanted to bring you guys up to date, but it came out like I was fishing for sympathy or something. And I can’t have that. Everybody has yards of crap they need to deal with, and my small problems aren’t any more special than anybody else’s. So, let’s move on.
Bourbon Season 2010 is underway, and we’ve had a couple of stiff belts of the stuff on nights when Toney and I are both home. And it tastes like Autumn.
However… The next morning I always wake up with a mouth and throat so dry if feels like somebody broke in here during the night, jammed a nozzle between my teef, and coated my shit with that stuff that’s supposed to keep moisture from seeping into a basement. Holy hell!
I’m not really a liquor kinda guy, and am unaccustomed to the extreme oral dryness. That nonsense never happens after four or five vessels of the golden elixir. And to tell you the truth, I’m not much of a fan. I think I’m going to limit my intake to one drink per evening, then switch to beer.
Of course, now that I’ll be working six nights per week, there won’t be much time for bourbon… or radical dehydration. But you know what I mean. If I drank the stuff like Slash or Janis Joplin, or whatever, I think I’d probably wake up the next morning as a single dried apricot, lying on a pillow.
Last night Metten sent me the following text message:
I almost died this afternoon. It’s always something with my life. I was driving about 70 mph down a major highway and getting ready to cross a bridge, when I turned the wheel and nothing happened. After a millisecond of intense panic I found that it would respond at the extreme ends of the wheel’s turning capacity. So I drove the rest of the way to my meeting and home like that… but scared shitless.
Sweet Maria! I’ve never even heard of such a thing. I don’t know how I’d respond if I was hurtling down the interstate, turned the wheel to change lanes, and the car just kept going in the original direction. I’d probably slam on the brakes or something equally dumbass.
And I’m going to make that the Question of the Day: Have you ever encountered a catastrophic mechanical failure while driving? Or have you known someone who had something terrible go wrong with their car, while in transit? Tell us about it in the comments, won’t you?
You know, like your steering wheel falls off, or your hood flies up, or the back wheels come off… Please tell us your tales.
And I’ll be back on Monday, my friends.
See ya then!
Good Morning Surf Reporters!!!!!!!
1979 Volvo. Rain-soaked distributer. Stalled on a main road; pushed to the side (serenaded by horns).
1985 Toyota MR2. Busted timing belt. Stalled on a main road; pushed to the side (serenaded by horns).
My first car was a 1980 Chevette (known as the “Shit-vette” because it was poo brown). I am no mechanic, but there was a part that I had to keep putting a rubber band around and I could tell when it broke because they car would just die. On the freeway or otherwise! It takes a 16 year old to have the balls to drive a piece of crap like that around – today I would walk first!
It’s important to hydrate while drinking. Alcohol is a powerful diuretic, which of course is why you pee like mad while drinking and why you DON’T the morning after.
Had an alternator go on me once while driving home from college on a COLD-ass night. Barely pulled into a gas station on the edge of what used to be nowhere (Gainesville VA back in the day was basically just that one gas station by the railroad tracks), called my Dad (pre cell phones!), and tried to warm back up after having spent the previous 40 minutes babying that car with the heat off to save power. Scared? You bet I was. When the headlights are down to about 1 candlepower, there are no dash lights, the windshield wipers work sporadically (I did I mention it was snowing), and it’s pitch-freaking BLACK out, you discover the power of fear.
And that’s my story.
#4? Happy Saturday!
and yes, I too have had several “incidents” of mass mechanical failure while driving.
1984 Ford Fiesta – solenoid went out, complete loss of everything electrical. At night and the headlights went kaput.
1994 Ford Crown Victoria – several.
– Serpentine belt busted on the highway, and while the car still ran, the temperature gauge spiked to redline.
– Something inside the steering column snapped causing the wheel just to spin round and round. That happened as I was pulling away from the curb. Car shot across the street and up over the curb.
– Tie rods on both sides of the front end at different times, both while turning. That caused the wheel to turn in on itself and the front end to hit the ground.
– Rear end differential seized up while backing out of a parking space. I remember the horrific sound still to this day.
Jeff if you can’t vent here where can you vent? I propose saturday to bitch about life day. Things have gone to shit where I work, accusations have been made with no evidence and retribution has been cast about. Unfortunately I have got myself caught up in it and will most likely be turning in my resignation after Christmas. Luckily the wife recently got a nice raise and I will be using the GI Bill to go back to school which will also pad are income. On top of all this, I was in the ER all day yesterday and have two herniated discs from said job, there!
It sounds to me like “So now I’ll have a Workers Compensation claim to add to the weekly income” should have the last sentence. Just saying….
I’m feeling your pain both economically and drinking.
I find I don’t have as much “disposable” cash as I used to and I defiantly can’t drink like I used to. I guess it’s and age thing. But I see people our age and older drinking like I did in college, I don’t get it. Maybe I should practice more!
Bad news about the book. I was (and still am) looking forward to reading it. I think you can rest assured that when it (finally) comes out, it’ll be a hit.
Hang in there.
fuckwits!
Sorry Dogberry Jr,
The book marketing guys are a bunch of fuckwits.
(I think that’s the collective noun?)
I’ve had THREE alternators crap out on me, all in different cars. The 1st was a 1983 Nissan Pulsar (that ran on duct tape and prayer), as I was merging onto I-440 (from I-40) in Raleigh, NC. I was merging at 60 mph, which suddenly dropped to less than 20 MPH…with a semi bearing down on me. I nearly had a heart attack. I made it 6 miles (I still don’t know how) before breaking down at an exit ramp.
Fast forward about 4 years to a different car. I broke down at the SAME EXIT. I should mention that 1. I warned my husband that something was wrong with the car, and verbally noted it was the alternator. 2. He assumed I was overreacting due to hormones. 3. It was JULY in THE SOUTH, and therefore approximately 2000 degrees outside. 4. I was SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT.
Fast forward to 2 years ago. I noted that the Magic Mom Van was on the fritz – and suspected the alternator. Husband agreed, but didn’t get to it fast enough. I think I actually broke down in our driveway that time…
That’s bullshit about the book. They couldn’t figure that shit out months ago, and not dick you around.
I was in a friends car once and a wheel fell off. Not a blow out, the wheel fell the hell off the car. He ad just gotten a tire change at the local yokel and they didnt’ put the bolts on, or didn’t tightn them or something.
We were driving down a gravel road, not to pick up some weed or anything like that, and all of a suddent the car tipped to the left and slide into the ditch. Luckily, we werent’ smoking weed or anything, so after we figured out we weren’t dead we laughed until we almost were dead. Then we had to walk about 2 miles to any civilization and help. We were starving at the end of that walk, not because we were high or anything, but because the walk was so long.
Well, at least there wasn’t any weed involved.
1980’s Dodge Shadow – As I was driving it to the dealership to trade it in for a new car, the turbo charger started dying, causing the engine to shut down. On I-64. With a semi tailgating me. Not fun.
1999 Pontiac Grand Am – This car was great for the first five years, after that, it started falling apart. Over the 8 years I had it, it went through at least five alternators. The scariest time in it was when I was commuting from Charleston, WV to Washington, DC. While still in town on the weekend, I took it over to Advance Auto to have them check the battery and alternator, and they gave it a thumbs-up. That Sunday night as I was on the DC Beltway, the dashboard guages started growing dimmer, as did the headlights. The car was still running, but the lights kept getting dimmer and dimmer. It wasn’t long before they were nearly gone, and I started to pull over to the shoulder. I was wondering how I was going to get a tow at 10 o’clock on a Sunday night, and started panicking. Just as I got on the shoulder, the lights blazed back to life, and I continued on to my hotel. Later on that week it finally died – right in the middle of Georgetown. Talk about the MOST EXPENSIVE place to get car work done – $600 for a tow, battery, and alternator.
Sorry to hear about the economic woes, Jeff. That really sucks about the book too… I’m sure your agent is right, but obviously it would be nice to move onto the next step now, rather than entering a holding pattern. Whenever it does get published though, you know that you already have a bunch of sales from us readers. I’m sure I’ll buy one for myself, and then a few copies for friends that will appreciate your sense of humor.
Although 60-hour weeks suck, it’s good that you can pick up extra money by working those extra hours. And if it makes you feel better, the book Outliers would suggest that your kids will be a success because of it too… kids see that their parents are rewarded for working harder and putting in extra time, rather than dumb luck or “natural talent”. That makes the kids work harder, rather than trying to find a nonexistent shortcut to success. The example that Outliers talks about is Jewish lawyers in the early 1900s… but I’m guessing your kids won’t become Jewish lawyers. Same concept though.
I’ve never had anything catastrophic happen with any of my cars, but only because I’ve thrown stupid amounts of money at repairing them. My current car is 15 years old, so it makes sense that some parts will fail. But I’ve dropped almost $5000 into it in the last 18 months. If I had known this 20 months ago, I would have sold it and bought a nice, new, boring Honda Civic.
Sorry about your book, Jeff.
-I was driving my ’89 Chevy Blazer — a mere one day after purchase — down a large incline with a sharp turn at the bottom. And I ran out of gas. It was full when all the wheeling and dealing was being done, so I neglected to looks at the gauge the day I took possession. I’m guessing those bastards siphoned out most of the gas before turning it over to me. Anyway, it ran out of gas and all power was lost (including the power steering) and here I was, barreling down a hill with a cliff at the end. I turned on the hazards and managed to start it up one more time in the middle of the hill, where I got it slowed down enough before it completely died again. As soon as I got to the end of the hill I hit the emergency brake, coasted into a pull off area there while hanging my full body weight on the steering wheel, and managed to stop inches shy of the cliff. Someone was watching over me that day. But I was totally prepared to go over the cliff with the vehicle, because that would have been preferable to trying to explain to my parents how I could total my truck on the very first day of ownership. They were mad enough at me that I had to get a tow.
-Had something fall off said Blazer while driving to the vet’s (with the dog in the car), causing an incredible ruckus and some difficulty driving. I think it had to do with the suspension. Sorry, I suck at cars. Managed to turn around and get it back home. Luckily it didn’t happen on a major road, but the dog wasn’t too pleased with the horrible noise.
-The piece of shit Subooboo Forester I had after the Blazer was in the shop more than it was in my driveway. It’s final demise happened when I was pulling out of a Costco, with every intention on getting on a major highway, and the transmission bottomed out. So a half hour drive home turned into a two-hour lurch fest on the backroads, where blue-haired old ladies passed me shaking their fists.
Just because you ran out of gas doesn’t mean the brakes quit working.
When the trubk/ car dies the power brakes are a bitch to make work and you really got to stand on ’em to get results.My 4Runner died (air problem) half way up a dirt road, steep grade in Boonyland, NM. There was no going up, no turning around. Rolling backwards was my only choice. No motor basically meant no brakes to control the speed. It’s a five speed so I used my gears and as much brake as one foot could give me. The other one was busy. So yes…the brakes “not working” is a good way to put it I think.
Thanks, dto, for explaining it in car terms. I remember trying to mash them as hard as I could, but it was me — weighing in at 100 pounds soaking wet with a roll of quarters in my pocket — versus a mid-size SUV. Even with faux Doc Martens on my feet, it was a losing proposition.
I once had a Ford pickup that was mostly rust. I couldn’t carry anything smaller than 2×6’s in the bed without it falling through. Coming up a curving on-ramp to I-77 the battery slid sideways and welded itself to the frame around the radiator. I managed to knock it loose but then realized I could have been showered in acid if it had exploded. Had an alternator on a Trans-Am go south on same interstate at night. Frightening.
I had a ’74 VW Beetle that would die if I hit a bump or pothole. Push in the clutch and let it out it would start again. VW dealer couldn’t figure it out. Didn’t matter though as I was involved in two separate accidents, neither of which were my fault. That finished it off.
I was driving a 1985 Olds Cutless down the interstate near Dallas and the fucking hood just flew up. It smashed across my windshield and there was only a tinly crescent-shaped hole right at the bottom, in the middle, where I could see to drive. There was traffic all around me and nowhere to pull over because they had those concrete walls of death on either side.
By the time I made it to an opening I pulled over and some guy in a pickup pulled up behind me and said, “Jesus Christ! I was behind you the whole time, trying to keep the maniacs from running you off the road.” I ripped the hood off and he asked me if he could have it (I have no idea why. Maybe scrap?) and went on my way.
Another time I was in a mustang and my belt broke. The alternator stopped working. So if I hit the brakes the car would try to die. I pulled into a gas station but the guy said there weren’t any parts stores for miles. So we tried to improvise. I considered using electrical tape to make a belt but it seemed too stupid to work. Then I bought a pair of panty hose that came in a giant silver egg. And fuck me if that didn’t do the trick. I tied it around them around the pulleys and cut off the excess. I drove like that for a few days before I got around to getting a proper belt. So all of you might consider carring pantyhose in your consoles.
I dropped the transmission of an Olds 98 many years ago, while riding on our beltline. Luckily, traffic was light that day and I was able to push the car into the far right lane and park it.
Ignition switch in my 97 Acura started randomly stalling the car a few months ago. I was afraid to even attempt any travel on the interstate. It would stall in turning lanes, anywhere. The local Honda dealership diagnosed the problem, but couldn’t fix it, as they didn’t have the software to reset the computer after the new switch was installed. AAA towed it to Charleston, and the dealer replaced the switch for a little over $600!! (The Honda ignition switch is modular, so you can replace just the bad parts, but the Acura’s isn’t, so you have to replace the whole thing.) I had to keep my driving to a bare minimum while all that was going on. Strange thing was, when I got the car back, the new ignition key said Honda on it, not Acura, so they must have put a Honda part in it anyway.
Back in LA during the salad days with the ex, I was driving her to work from our flat in SaMo to her work in Tarzana. We were in her ’61 Valiant, & it started making a bizarre squeaking noise from the rear. She needed to get to work, but I knew I would investigate the matter in the parking lot when we got there. But, I decided to stay off the freeway in case something happened.
For those familiar with LA, we would leave Westwood going N on Sepulveda to Ventura Blvd. We crested the hill & started descending into the valley, & when we emerged from Sepulveda tunnel, there was a horrible *thunk* & my side of the car dropped about a foot. I tried the brakes, but the pedal goes straight to the floor. Nothing. I pull the emergency brake. Nothing.
As we are gathering speed on a long, curvy, downhill descent, I look in my side rearview to see if anyone is behind us. What I see is one car that sreeched to a halt in order to avoid the left half of the rear axle/wheel that had fallen off. I also notice that the incredible friction had caused the part of the car in contact with the pavement had become aflame.
So I’m gathering speed on Sepulveda in a flaming vintage car with no brakes, & a sharp left turn approaching. I used the turn as a means to slow the car, and violently rubbed the right front tire against the curb until the car came to a halt.
The good Samaritan that had screeched to halt when avoiding the renegade axle, emerged from his SUV with a fire extinguisher & doused the remaining flames. He also had a cellphone (this was in the pre “everyone has a cell” era) & called for a tow-truck, & the ex was able to call into work (she still got shit for being late.)
That could have so easily been a Hollywood style, flaming, end-over-end job in that old car, & likely would have been if I weren’t behind the wheel. The missus took a taxi to work, & retired to some nearby woods, & smoked a huge bowl (I always had weed on my person.)
I then procured a towel from the trunk & used it as protection to navigate the still hot axle to near where the car was resting. I then sat on the curb, stoned, waiting for the tow-truck. When the guy showed up, I had a Clark Griswold moment as he surveyed the damage & cut his eyes over to me (“Ain’t never seen anyone so shit-all stupid as you”) before loading up the remains, & dumping me off on Wilshire about a mile from home. I managed to hit every bar on the walk home as I had aquired an unquenchable thirst for beer, & it wasn’t even noon.
I had never seem flaming steel until that day, & haven’t since then.
Sorry to hear about the book Jeff, hopefully this economy is starting to claw it’s way back but it sure is hard to get a read for such things. Also kudos to you for your decision to work your way through your financial straits instead of just bitching about them.
Thankfully I’ve never experienced a mechanical catastrophe but I have been nearly the victim of one.
A couple of years ago I was in Detroit for the Woodward Dream Cruise and my friends and I were heading down I-94 towards Woodward Ave when all of a sudden a tire comes bouncing over the center divider about 200 yards in front of us. It continued to bounce across the highway in front of us until it bounded up an onramp and came to rest on the side of a hill. Had we been about 30 seconds earlier it may have come through the windshield.
wheel bearing on the girls car went out a month ago. That was fun. Cleveland cops showed up while I was waiting for the tow truck and grilled me like I was squatting in a stalled car or something.
The following is not mechanical failure, but general stupididty on my part and similar to the Metten thing.
After drinking one night in St. Louis I was going to drive me and my girl home. She went to get her car all buttoned up and got in and drove. I followed her for about 2 miles trying to get her to pull over because she was brown out drunk. Finally she did and I took her home.
I dropped her off and then walked defiantly 1.5 miles back to her car to drive it home. I got there, unlocked the door with my key and realized I didn’t have a key for her club.
I drove about 1.5 miles with the club on, basically I could only turn left. So there was a lot of backing up.
I’m a tool. I know.
So, financial troubles? Balloon payment on secret braces?
I was 17 and had my license maybe 2 months when driving my old Ford Tempo along a major strip and my hood flew up. I had to pull an Ace Ventura and stick my head out the window to pull the car over. I was so petrified once I got the hood down I did no more than 5 mph the rest of the ride home
Had a brake line spring a leak in the old winter beater. Still managed to get home without incident. Repaired in the driveway.
Had a wiper arm start ratcheting and spring free on my truck. I think somebody had tried to steel it but couldn’t pull it free, and didn’t bother being gentlemanly and re-seating it so the lock tab would pop back into place.
Had a wheel that had its lug nuts loosened. Heard it, and went looking for something loose, I wasn’t expecting it to be a wheel.
Had a brake caliper seize. Drove it home slowly. A lot of smoking initially, then the pads glazed over and it went fairly smoothly, just jerked left anytime you touched the brakes. Repaired that in the driveway also.
Destroyed a supposedly bulletproof transmission. I wasn’t even racing with it at the time.
Grenaded a differential. That went with a !BANG! and shudder. Managed to limp it home also.
Spare tire mount broke free on my truck. The chain I used to prevent somebody from stealing my spare saved it hurtling into the car behind me. Dragged it into the next parking lot and tossed it in the back.
Dropped an exhaust pipe after hitting a pot hole. Had to hacksaw it off on the side of the road as it was dragging on the ground the wrong way around.
Lost a muffler, litterally, when the joints on either end rusted through. It went rattling to the side of the road. Stayed there for three weeks before a scrapper picked it up (it was a block from work, saw it everyday, even have a picture of it lying there all forelorn). Though I guess those don’t count as catastrophic failures since they have no effect on how the vehicle operates.
Blew up a few tires over the years.
Watched a buddy break an axle shaft after a smokey exit from a parking lot. Wheel exited from the side of his car with a stub of axle. We laughed at him as any good friend should do.
Had fuel pump failure on a number of vehicles. One out in the sticks… right in front of a garage. Pure luck there, they even had one, nothing like a good old small block chevy for parts interchangability. A previous work van. Again out in the sticks. Only this time it was far enough out in the sticks that it was fields in every direction. A little over an hour and a half waiting for a tow truck. At least I had a cell signal and a fresh stack of cross words to keep me occupied.
Thats all for now.
Had a VW rabbit CV joint fail while in transit, maybe 40 MPH.
The car made a horrible sound then the steering wheel locked up in extreme left (counterclockwise) position.
Car executed an immediate abrupt left turn.
Fortunately no one was close by.
Not exactly mechanical but more of a function malfunction. Driving back to New Mexico from Laguna where I just bought a sweeeeet ‘84, 22ft. motor home. Low miles, 464 motor, super nice. Buzzing along I-40 the second day east of Flag and in that canyon with hills, downgrades and curves area coming into New Mexico. Cruise set at 80 or so and the cruise sticks and won’t disengage. Breaks won’t do it and turning the cruies off doesn’t work either. Haulin’ ass down hills and on curves with semis to my right and guard rails to my left and nothing after the guard rail until you get 60-80ft. down. Shoving it into neutral would rev it to probably 10 grand and then slamming it back into drive would have the trans sitting in the passengers seat next to me quicker than you can say AAmco. Hang on and go for the ride was all I could do. Trying to use the brakes to hold me back was useless and I knew if I kept that up I’d burn ‘em up and loose ‘em altogether. Had to keep going and then I caught a decent upgrade that helped slow me down to 50 or 60 I’d guess. As I was about to crest it I found a spot to pull off safely Brakes were working in my favor somewhat now. Got to my spot, pulled over, shoved it into neutral and turned the key off. Hellasious backfire and I put it in park. Since I flew out to get the thing, I had no tools. Just some RV knives and a dime. No cell service, a motor too hot to mess with but I had some beer. I relaxed in my new death palace for about an hour and then disconnected any wire I could trace to the cruise, pulled fuses everything. Even checked vacuum for the old style cruise. Throttle…everything!. Started it up and it revved to 10 grand right away. Kept stepping, stomping on the break to get the thing to quit. Why it eventually did I have no idea. I’ve never used it since.
People have always liked to laugh when times are tough so I kinda don’t get it but this seems like a good time to start your second one. Well…after the 60 hour week thing is yanked and it’s yurt season again. It’ll pop for ya.
Dear click and clack,
The other day the cruise control on my house broke…
1989 Chevy S-10 3.8L. Given to me by my dad who drove it from west Louisiana to east several times a week for several years. Then decided to drive it to me in Kansas City my freshman year ’98. It had 340K miles when I got it. 440K I completely blew the engine and the whole fucker locker up under a very busy overpass interchange. I got out. Walked home 5 miles and never looked back. Never heard another thing about it.
I know all about the dry mouth thing. Seems that hangovers get worse as I get older. Honestly, I never had them when I was younger. And I’m not too keen on them now. I’ve thought I was going to die several times. Hair of the dog, baby! That’s what I do!
I had an old Pontiac GTO in my youth. After a marathon session of changing the rearend (to a better gear ratio, btw…) and lots of beers with my pals in a garage, while doing the surgery, we decided to head for a swimming hole in a creek out in the boonies to cool off and drink some more. It was one of those gawdawful hot August days, ya know.
We all hop in our respective vehicles and blow out.
I’m about 4 miles from the swimming hole, traveling down a highway at breakneck speed when I hear a low picthed rumble come from the rearend. Then another, then another louder one……… So I slow down to about 55 or so, cock and ear, and listen closely, and POOM! The rearend locks solid. As I frantically try to steer, the car’s ass end just hops, like an old black and white move of a crash-landing plane.
I somehow managed to get it to the berm without a wreck, due to my amazing driving skilz, and I get out, and look under the car at the reared, which was actually smoking, sizzling, and popping.
Lesson learned? Don’t take someone else’s assurance that the rearend has gear oil in it, after they’ve drank a couple beers. Check it anyhow…………
I’m pissed off about your book! dammit! So, the process sucks it, too… your editor has you doing all these revisions, polishing it all up… just so your AGENT can decide that it’s not the right TIME! that just doesn’t jive with me. I think (and who gives a single dingle what I think) that comedy is especially needed during difficult times. so there.
I got my copy of the Government Cheese: 1985 – 1995 (dobule CD) and love it, and not just for nostalgia’s sake. It’s pretty damn good.
The agent/ puplisher kabosh thing is stiil kinda buggin’ me. So only known writers are getting anything new published? Seems off a bit your agent or publishers wouldn’t want to try a fresh voice and throw it out there. Wait until the economy is better (no sense it’s affect on funny) and all the other unknown wrtiers get turned lose on the reading public? Ten new comedy books to choose from, they buy one, go home and read it and it sucks and they won’t bet a comedy dollar on another. I think you’re a great fit for Kindle too. People riding trains and subways, flying…whatever…laughing outloud at what they’re reading and strangers asking them what’s so funny. And then a, “Here…read this.” Maybe not the bucks on Kindle but you’d end up with a Kindle Cult and everyone would want to meet you at a book signing, then buy the book just to have and would snatch up the second and third…etc. In the pile at Barney & Snooty’s on the comedy table being out-witted by someone’s cover art is tough way to go I’m sure.
Or you could pitch it as “The Sequel to the First Book that was Never Published”. That’s a good WTF head turner.
I’m sure you’re getting a lot of…”you know what you should do?”…so just print out my take…on some soft paper and put it to good use.
That blows about the book, Jeff. I, too, think comedy is what is needed when times are tough. Times are tough at our house and everyone I know, too, if it’s any consolation that you’re not alone.
I was driving near Crissy Field in SF one sunny Sunday afternoon in my 1979 Toyota (I think this happened in ’85 or so) and stopped at a stop sign. When I went to put the car in gear to go, the gear shift came off in my hand. The road was packed with traffic (nice weather on a Sunday in SF – a gazillion people come into the city) and I’m swingin’ my stick.
I have no idea how I did it, but I was able to get the stick back into the gear and drive to the nearest gas station. I believe there were a few angry horn honks before I was able to repair the situation, if I remember correctly.
Happy Sunday, Surfers!
Comic novels are an uphill battle, even in the best of times. I was told this, before I’d even started writing mine. So, I knew I was taking a risk by pursuing that particular path, and I’m not exactly shocked by the outcome. Disappointed, but not shocked.
Hell, even John Kennedy Toole ended up killing himself, because he couldn’t get A Confederacy of Dunces published. And that’s a work of pure genius.
My book is not as good as Confederacy, of course. But I think it’s funny, and believe it will be sold someday. A few people have suggested I self-publish, but I don’t want to do that. Not now, anyway. I’m willing to wait it out, and maybe the novel will be my second book?
In fact, Metten and I have submitted a book proposal to my agent for a silly project that (I think) might be easier to market. We’re waiting on a response, and should know something next week.
So, I’m not giving up on it. If the timing is wrong for one thing, I’ll offer them something else. Eventually it’ll pay off, I believe.
Thanks for giving a crap!
I find it somewhat sad that your book is unpublished and yet, “People of Walmart” and other such websites churn out and sell books left and right…
Yeah, explain James Patterson. He can’t write a grocery list.
Ugh, I’ve never been able to understand why people like him! And that Twilight crap, don’t even get me started.
If the subject matter isn’t too ‘Stars and Stripes’ you might consider pitching it to a few UK publishers.
I get your humour (and I generally don’t laugh all that much!) so it definitely travels
I’m sure you’ve got a few more ‘Brits’ reading your stuff who keep coming back for more.
Maybe its worth a shot?
A friend and I started bourbon season this morning at about 10:30 (you know, because it felt like 11:30) and I must say that I was shocked by the results. I came home a few minutes ago after several hours of drinking and the wife was feeling frisky. But the bourbon had left me paralyzed from the balls out. Nothing could make ’em point North. Nothing.
I need to know if this is a common thing or if I need to seek out that smiling Bob guy or some kind of suction pump.
Yeah well maybe little wifey just needs to TRY THE FUCK A LITTLE HARDER!!!
just sayin….
(meant as a joke… don’t nobody go all fuckety fuck on me now…)
cool – with the time change I sent this an hour in to the future!!!!
First, to hot fuzz’s point: I agree. Her fault. She don’t get the snow if she can’t raise the pole.
Second, to the overall point: I’m going to skip one of the time changes for the next 24 years. The way I figure it I’ll have a whole day (24 hours) on the rest of you fools. Then I’ll be going through your wallets, robbing banks, watching your wives shower, and taking hard-on pills. Consider this another “Mayan Calander” type thing. In 24 years you’re fucked.
The world won’t end in 2012 (someone smarter than me pointed out that if they were so fucking psychic they would’ve seen the Spainish coming, and suchlike) but the world WILL end in 2034 for you guys. And that stands whether I have an alcohol-induced limp-dick or not. Tell the History Channel! Look out!
The Mayan calendar thing? It was created over a thousand years ago. I figure they got to 2012 and said fuck it that’s enough.
I wrote a thing about the calander and how this guy was the carver to avoid the kicking around heads soccer games. He died while he was doing 2012 and the mystery ends there. Could have been 20018 or 2001 or whatever. Might dust it off.
2034 huh? I’ll be 81 so when I hit 80 I’m gonna party like it’s 2034. HELL YEAH!!
Maybe get her to try the “winding down the window” position if the “churning the butter” technique isn’t working for you.
Giving sex advice to Jason is like…. (go ahead, have some fun)
The old “spirit is willing but the flesh is weak” yawn comes to mind but I knew this old guy who just called it “Whiskey DicK”. More fun to say too and he would be one to know I’m sure.
I don’t know if this counts as a catastrophic failure but…
My alternator (Jeep Cherokee) died in the middle of the road one day. The car itself was fine, but I had no gauges and the radio was dead. I was much more concerned about the radio.
A friend of mine, however, was driving her POS down the road one day and went over and extra pointy speed bump (You know the ones – they’re like driving over a 45 degree angle). Shortly afterward, her engine died and the car came to a stop.
Shit FELL OUT of the car. Fell. OUT.
The pointy speed bump had jarred something loose and… that was that.
Transmission grenaded in all gears except for first. This happened
While pulling way from church on my wedding day. We live in the
Mountains , it was FUN getting home.
I had the right rear wheel of an 89 chevrolet K-1500 4×4 pickup come off while I was flying down the interstate at 85 or so. The shop that rotated my tires evidently missed one. About 10 minutes after leaving the wheel studs said fuckit and the wheel went bouncing off into a cornfield. Truck did a bunch of sliding, spun numerous times and tried to flip a couple of times but never quite had enough momentum to fully flip over. I managed to get the truck corralled without rolling it or killing myself or someone else. The ride was so….exhilarating….I had diarrhea when I got home.
Same truck a half a dozen years later had a power steering pump failure which caused the wheel to violently turn to the left and freeze there. Crashed through the ditch and hit a field driveway and did a straight up “dukes of hazard” jump into a field. Lots of time to think about the landing while I was airborne. It didn’t disappoint.
My brother ‘rebuilt’ the carburetor on my mighty 1977 Mercury Monarch and the $%#!@! thing was never worth a $hit afterwards. One of the best features of this performance was how the throttle (read: gas pedal) would get stuck on cold days, especially if you drove somewhere more or less at the same speed.
So here I was barreling down I-71 on snowy day in January 1985, with 2 or 3 buddies from college in the car, when we came up on either a traffic jam or an accident. All highway traffic was completely stopped but even as I began to apply the brakes on this snowy road, I knew (from past experience) that the gas pedal was stuck WIDE OPEN. I guess I remembered driver’s Ed or the safety films on Police Call (old show on Sunday mornings on WCPO that used to show those gory highway safety films). I threw the car in to neutral, brought the car to a stop, popped the hood and the air filter cover, and MANUALLY got the stuck throttle loose.
Hero for the day.
Carb icing. Did your brother fail to hook the heat tube back up?
I just don’t think he “de-gunked” it very well on that side.
Another feature: the counter-weight to the choke plate broke off. So if I wanted to start the engine on any day when the temperature was under 45, I had to manually close the choke plate to get it started, then manually re-open it!
Fire your agent! You deserve representation from someone who believes in your work as much as we (your devoted readers) do! Maybe this agency doesn’t know how to sell a humor book. But rest assured SOMEONE in the industry does. Don’t waste your time with these unenlightened assholes!
Can you self-publish it? I know of people who have self-published, sold a bunch and then had a publishing house pick it up later. You’d get $20 from me and I’ll bet a lot of other people. Just a thought. Hope things start turning around.
@dto – there’s a fine line between Tequila Dick, where you are so hard you can go through 2 or 3 women, and Whisky Dick, where you can’t get it up even if you have two strippers going to work on it at the same time. I spent most of my college days trying to get just the right balance.
Another man of science I see. Worth the research I’m sure.
I haven’t ever had catastrophic car failure, but I have had to replace the starter on EVERY SINGLE CHRYSLER I have ever owned. Apparently they are buying from the wrong Chinese plant.
Yep…i had the dread starter change on my Concorde. You have to loosen a motor mount and jack the engine up to get to it. Also just had a water pump replaced. Almost have to tear the entire front of the car off to get to it. And now a month later I have water pouring out from somewhere. My car sucks.
NO Brakes! The system failed on the way to work and I had to use the hand brake all the way there and the same going home. A bit scary going down the highway but strangely exhilarating.
nothing more than a partial brake failure. in construction.
yeah. my ’95 buick century. i’m driving through construction, highway construction…which means we hammer the gas at every moment to make up time lost waiting for the douche with the big stop sign. which also means when traffic suddenly stopped and i put my foot to the floor…which never happens…i got scared.
i hammered the pedal a couple of times and got enough pressure that the car would stop, about a half foot from ending up in the next car’s trunk. so, heart hammering, i call dad (who i got the car from) “can you stop??” he asks
“eventually” I say. shaking my head.
“well don’t pull any Dukes of Hazzard shit and you’ll be fine.” he says.
Great…thanks dad…did i mention i’ve still got 100 miles to drive? oh and i know exactly jack shit about cars too.
so I apparently blew a brake line…not catastrophic, but the damn thing hardly had any brake fluid left in it by the time i got home. then dad gives me this gem, “you probably should have called a tow truck.”