To rehash conversations about shit I’ve recently posted here:
The Car Situation: Erin asked me whether or not I’d fix the Blackura before trading it in. Hers was a salient point. While I wouldn’t necessarily get the body work done, I’d definitely want to get the bearing and trans working right. I simply couldn’t—in good conscious—let someone else happen upon that bad-ass machine without it being in immaculate working order (all cosmetic considerations aside). While speaking with my brother, I had to admit that my previous post embodied an itch that had to be scratched. It’s my triennial “Gary needs a new car” bullshit. The itch has been scratched; pragmatism defeats impulse; the Blackura will be fixed. After that, though, all bets are off, bitches!
Tampa Trip: Independence Air sucks huge pig sac. Erin received an email bragging about $44-$64 one-way tickets to various destinations, including Tampa. Fucking liars. The fares on their website were horrid, and required layovers at podunk airstrips (by Dulles or TIA standards). I got a better deal working through Travelocity—on Independence!—with direct flights. What the fuck is that about?!
Cold! At the time of this post, it is 7°F (-14°C) outside. Again, I admit that it’s not as cold here as other places, and it’s much warmer elsewhere (Tampa!). It’s cold; yeah, Gary, we get that.
Metrics: Thinking about why I have to post degrees Fahrenheit and Celsius (for my one Canadian reader)… why don’t I just put shit in Kelvin? Nevermind. Why is America, as a whole, so opposed to the metric system? Our measurements are based on the British Imperial system… yet even the UK (Britain or England or whatever) from whence that system was borne… actively uses (guess) metrics? Because we—as Americans—are used to the shit we grew up with, and—as Americans—are always right. Fuck your meters, European Union; we talk about shit in feet or yards. Fuck your kilos, Columbia; we measure your opiates in ounces, pounds and tons (not tonnes). While we (Americans) no longer weigh ourselves in stones, or know how tall we are by hands (I know it’s a horse thing), we’re still a bunch of fucking idiots.
And for that, I apologize.
No new car (yet), going to Tampa in February (yay), and it’s 11:30pm (-5 UTC).