Wednesday, June 16, 2004

In which I abuse my (?) readers and bemoan my brother's car:

Sorry the blog was down awhile, I really didn't know. I wasn't checking the blog, but I was checking my e-mails. Sorry if the link is too hard to find, right over there above the sidebar. I checked when I realized that a drunken template "fix" had crashed the blog, but the e-mail link was still operative. Thanks for nothing, dickholes. All three of you, anyway. Yep, my high-powered web-tracker says I had three visitors this month. Oh, yeah, and the code I finally found that was dicking the whole thing up was the code that lets my high-powered web-tracker track my site. Which means I had to delete it, which means I have no more web-tracker anymore. Which means I have to go back to pretending I have the slightest idea who might be interested in this mishmash and why. Again, thanks for nothing, web-tracker dickholes. Oh, yeah, and here's a newsflash:

Non-Insured California Dickhole Totals My Brother's Audi, Nearly Kills Him, and Dissapears.

Check it out--

Cutie car, he called it 'Purl.'
Another view of the doomed 'Purl,' which my bro loaned to a hard-up 17 year old for his prom.  Note the sassy convertible top.

This is the Cali fucker's car, the guy standing next to it is Bro's co-worker who came to save him.
Weep for me! Arizona law forbids Unisured Motorist Insurance from paying me off!
I was a fun car.
I used to be so shiny and fast and new, and look at me now.

I would show you pictures of his stiff neck and numb arms and hands, but those kinds of things don't come across as well in photos. He really is hurt, tho, he went to the emergency room after an hour or two and they sent him right to physical therapy. And they won't let him drive or go to work (he's got three jobs!) for a few weeks, then he can only work a few hours a day and only do "essential" driving. And they've given him all kinds of serious "has a street value" narcotic painkillers. Which he won't share. His neck is killing him, he has to take them so he doesn't scream continuously, and he hates taking medicine, so it must be really really painful, blah, blah, blah. He's so selfish (I kid! I kid!) Yep, he's really hurt for real. I know, I thought he was just a wussy at first too, but I found out different. I could show you a hilarious picture of my cousin Terri and I throwing french fries at his face and him not being able to duck (from before we knew his injuries were so serious, I assure you) but some total drunken idiot deleted them trying to take an evidentiary picture of the greenest hotel bathroom on Earth. Really, it was soooooo seafoam green everywhere I was afraid I'd driven through a time warp into 1953.

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