Money is a Whore (or, Why I Hate Cars)

What's slipping, needs replacing, and costs $500-600.00?

My clutch.

Money is the root of all evil. Or so I've been told. If this is the case then I qualify for sainthood. Me and Money have never really gotten along that well. Oh sure, we talk from time to time, and she nods to me when we pass each other in the hall. But we don't really hang. Whenever Money and I get together, she always finds some excuse to piss off early.

I know its largely my fault. I'm not good at handling Money, and Money likes to be handled well (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). I do tend to blow Money, which you would think she would like, but apparently that just makes her lose respect for me. So I end up alone most of the time. Of course, I usually hanging out with that poor second choice to Money, the slut known as Loose Change.

So, back to my clutch. Or as I prefer to think of it, my fucking clutch. Remember before, I spoke about the hole in my muffler? Well, its been getting louder. Over the last few days, my car has seemed to be losing power. That is to say, whenever I accelerate (and I like to accelerate fast), the acceleration has been less than robust. It just keeps getting worse and worse.

Yesterday, on the drive to work, I had to floor it just to get up to speed on the highway. On the way home from work, I didn't even dare take the highway, and had to putz along on the side street. Like a dork. I called a buddy of mine who understands cars, and he told me it was probably my clutch.

There was already a list of things that needed to be repaired on my car. Number one was the muffler of course. I also need to renew my plates. My driver's side automatic window is broken, and is stuck halfway down. This isn't too bad in the summer (unless it rains), but the winter would be a real drag. And my defrost/heater thingy doesn't blow air anymore.

Now you see, the problem here is that I had just gotten together with Money. We were going to reconcile you see - we had plans. Ah, the things we were going to do together. But then, once Money found out about my car problems, she decided to bugger off once again.

I want to get back together with Money. So I decided to pop the question. I went out, and bought a little slip of paper. For some reason, Money likes paper. Now I just have to wait for her answer (a little formal ceremony known as a "Lotto 6/49 drawing"). If she says yes, she'll make me the happiest man on earth.