I have a donut problem.
Guy I bought an old Minolta off on eBay offered me its original telephoto lens, but while this guy has seemingly a million accounts on payment services I've never heard of, he's not on PayPal, which is the only one I use.
Sorry, not fucking signing up for your weird payment services to buy a lens I don't need.
Explanation of donut problem on request.
Things actual live people never ever actually said:
"Our hectic schedule."
"The bargain brand"
"Our beautiful lawn"
"Active toddlers"
"I'll call for free information"
Near as I can tell, trump's new press secretary has two qualifications:
- she's blonde
- she has a vagina
That's... it.
Sometime somebody should assess how the proportion of blondes in trump's administration compares to the population at large.
Hahahahaha... suck it, Eagles. Surfer dude beat you.
Annabelle really likes the mowuss I store in the container of pungent catnip for weeks at a time.
This ends up being our last image of Gurp, a week ago, showing up for cat treats.
A bad start to a Saturday.
Jean gave Gurp some treats a while ago. She got concerned about his thinness, and without an appointment, took him over to the vet who has treated his thyroid stuff.
He had lost even more weight, and they found an "incompressible mass" under his ribcage. Pressing on everything and making him very uncomfortable. Inoperable.
I wasn't there, but Jean made the decision to give him the blue needle.
He was 14 and a half years old. Her first cat ever.
Halloween candy is such a hard choice!
What should I give out??
You people who write words a lot: here's a free vignette that came to me today...
Guy and a girl are having sex. He has lately become convinced she can read or hear his innermost thoughts.
As a check, while they're having sex, he sets a mental trap by picturing -- without saying a word -- the most absurd and unlikely event he can.
He thinks "suddenly we were covered in sliced bologna."
She immediately cracks up, laughing uncontrollably, and HE KNOWS.
Newly-grown catgrass. Up next: newly-grown catyack.
Jeezofuk, he talks like a six-year-old.
He talks like the Simplified English Wikipedia.
He needs to go fuck himself and never be allowed to speak in public for the rest of his life.
Bun violence.
You don't often see legendary fast-food chains collapse like that.
Noses.
The two latest not-really-Elgin clocks.
They're little, they're cute, they're cheap.
The one on the right arrived Thursday and required oil before it would run right. The one on the left showed up today and started up immediately. Next week I'll pull it open and oil it so it's good for the next 55 or so years.
I now have five of these and none are truly identical.
"It's the dog park."
The BlueChew dick-pill commercials always have cheerful blondes with unsecured big tits touting the value of their subscription dick pills.
Probably oughta rename it BoobChew.
So fuckit, I pan-grilled steaks. I must eatfud.
One day I'll be wrong about this shit. I have been diagnosing and fixing cars for 45 years.
I am good.
"Codes" and scanners just makes it easier. VW has a list of 7 likely causes of this failure.
"Water pump' does not appear on that list, although even " brake switch" does. I trust Volkswagen. I had two of their diesels for a total of more than half a million miles. And a gasser I sometimes wish I still had.
Water pump, my ass.
The engine light on the car came onand it went into limp mode the other day for Jean.
Researching it, it was likely something in or feeding the throttle control. All-electronic fly-by-wire shit.
She left it at the garage up the road and went off to Nashville. They replaced... the water pump. Which was not showing any problems.
Jean's mom just picked it up. Unsurprisingly, the engine light came on in the 1.2 miles from there to here. Also unsurprisingly, the not-bad water pump was $1000.