Small Miracles

Well, halle-fuckin’-jullah!!!

Or, you know, however you spell that…

Why the exclamation of sheer, unadulterated glee? You KNOW you’re wondering that, ain’t you? “What could POSSIBLY have happened to have made my grumpy old cynical prick of a buddy Steve Thompson so exuberantly happy (well, for Steve Thompson anyway)? Did he win grand prize in some contest where the winner gets to sodomize Megan Fox while she wears a little French maid outfit? That’s GOT to be it…”

The answer, unfortunately, is NO…Megan’s career hasn’t slid NEARLY far enough into Hell where she needs to hold such contests--YET (now, if her next movie or two tanks as bad as the last few have, then maybe…just MAYBE…). And no, I didn’t win the fucking lottery or get my teeth fixed or find out that my seizures will never come back, nor did they invent lightsabers yet…all of those WOULD be pretty cool, though.

No, it’s much simpler than that—I’m finally, finally, FUCKING FINALLY getting my transmission rebuilt. $1,800…I’ve got half right now, and will have to pay back the other half (which, when you’re already in debt as deep as me, could quite accurately be described as “a piss in the ocean”), but it’s WORTH EVERY SWEAT-AND-BLOOD-SOAKED PENNY. Fuck me, I’ll be able to GO PLACES for a goddamned change…I mean, I WENT places before obviously, but nowhere particularly far away. My buddy’s place in Three Rivers (a whole 26 miles away) was about as far as I could COMFORTABLY drive the car before, and even just the slight elevation there was hard on the fucking car—it was always slipping into neutral driving up 198 to get there. But now I can finally go ANYWHERE…well, anywhere that people without two cents to rub together nor a pot to piss in CAN go, anyway. Like taking a trip to Yosemite again. Or making it down to San Francisco to go salmon fishing. Or…well, like I said, fucking WHEREVER. Hell, if I had money just POURING out of my asshole I could even finally get back to SIN CITY…shit, I haven’t been there in damned near twenty years.

But, as much as anything, it will be nice just to be able to drive down the street again without the fucking car slipping into neutral and revving up to 50,000 RPM every time I have to put my foot on the accelerator…that shit gets kind of embarrassing after a while, you know?

It's still kinda hard to believe that it's actually gonna happen. It's been FIVE GODDAMNED YEARS since I got that car, and I've been wanting to get it done basically since the day I bought it. I was starting to think that they'd finally be finished building the fucking Freedom Tower before I got around to this shit. Imagine you knocked up your wife back in 2007, and the lazy little juvenile-delinquent-to-be only just FINALLY got around to crawling out of your old lady's vagina TODAY, in 2012...that's almost (I emphasize the "almost" here) what it feels like.

Things are actually LOOKING UP...