PissedKitten

Once upon a time there was this old dude who was related to me through some obscure, genetic pachinco machine of familial misadventure. He died. Then there was barbecue.

Thanks, man.

If intelligence fails, at the very least, be polite. Right now.the receptionist I’m throwing eye daggers at is being neither. Gawd! She hit the bawl suck trifecta by being hideously less than attractive to boot. Welcome to the shallow end of the gene pool, cranky.

OK, so I have a car. Why is that an invitation for suffering and humiliation at the hand of my local grease monkey?

It broke down the other day- I mean why wouldn’t it? It’s mechanical and mechanical things are prone to wear and malfunction right? I accept it, it pisses me off when it happens but I’m at peace with the possibility. What cheeses me is having to deal with arrogant “experts” who immediately claim superiority over your mechanical abilities merely because you’re a girl.

All the “Honey, you probably don’t understand blah, blah, blah” and other condescending BS that I had to endure was well worth the satisfaction of stumping the knuckle-dragger’s diagnostic skills with my ailing American-made SUV and later fixing it myself with calm logic and a little research on the web.

I even managed to stay relatively clean while making the repair.

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