Thursday, February 6, 2020

I’m not going to lie, beloved. I’ve had a long day and I am beat. So, we’ll keep this short and maybe look at the horror that is America 2020 tomorrow.

It wasn’t a bad day, mind. It was just long. It started this morning at 7 a.m. I had to drive B.C. to a veterinarian in Baldwyn, a little over 45 miles. Nothing major, he just needed to get fix. He’s an outside cat and I will not be responsible for bring more cast-off cats into this world. Like his cat brother Bounce and, for that matter, his dog brother Fuzzy, someone abandoned B.C. out by the tree-line when he was a kitten, barely six weeks old.

Anyhow, I realize driving 45 miles to get a cat fix seems like something of a haul, and it is. However, recall that this is Northeast Mississippi and we don’t do shit properly around here. Baldwyn was the closest I could come to that didn’t cost ridiculous money. And I had to be their by 8 a.m., for whatever reason, and it wouldn’t be until 3 that afternoon that I could pick him up.

Luckily, I had some running around I could do. Went by the library, got some medical records, and got the oil changed in my car. Again, I had to go to Tupelo to get it done because Northeast Mississippi. See, I have a Fiat and unless I want to drop a hundred bucks for an oil change, I drive to the Carlock dealership in Tupelo for $40. Changing the oil in a Fiat is a bit of a hassle compared to, say, a Ford Ranger and needs special parts that are a bit harder to track down. Wherever I go to get it done, they’d have to go through the dealership anyway, which adds costs. Still with me?

So, that’s 45 minutes down. Now, my pappy always told me to never get my car fixed at a dealership. Whether this is true or not, I don’t really know, but Daddy would say that a dealership would look for things that “needed” fixing, whether they really did or not. However, because of the whole Fiat business – this not being Italy – we get our oil changed at the dealership, as noted.

Anyhow, the service rep guy comes up to me and says the mechanics noticed an oil leak. To figure out just why it was leaking, they’d have to hook it up to the machine. That’s another way dealerships get you, Daddy would say. Whatever that “machine” is, it does have its uses but it’s not always necessary. After another hour of waiting, Tyler – the kid’s name is Tyler, by the by – comes out to tell me there’s something wrong with the oil pan. Worse, to fix it, they’d have to pull the alternator and most of the engine out to get to it.

Tyler said it would need to be done but it wasn’t a hanging matter. Good enough, because it’d cost me $895 in all to get it fixed. Lovely. But this dealership is pretty good at owning what needs to be done with quickness and what can wait around. I don’t really drive that much – I’ve barely put 3,000 on it since I moved home, and most of that was trips to New Orleans and Athens – Tyler told me to keep an eye on the oil level. There’s a pretty good all-around mechanic shop about 10 miles from here who do good work. I’ll have them take a look at it when the weather gets nicer.

Speaking of weather, we’ve gotten rain like pouring piss out of a boot for the last couple of days. We were just shy of having the roads flooded over. Furthermore, it’s 22 degrees colder today than it was yesterday. Misty and miserable, and I was on the road all day. We’re getting a reprieve tomorrow, but the rain’s supposed to kick some more on us tomorrow.

Okay. Enough’s enough. I really don’t feel like getting into the news because, quite frankly, the world is fairly discouraging. Part of it’s the on-going fallout from the great Iowa Debacle earlier in the week. DNC head Tom Perez has come out against caucuses and wants to make a change. Fair enough, but this comes as Bernie Sanders just inches past Pete Buttigieg to win the state and most of the delegates.

And since nobody to the left of John Birch seems to understand that the nomination process takes more than one stating, the Bernie fanatics have flip-flopped just where and how their anointed one is being screwed over by the party machine he’s been telling to fuck itself for the past five years, compelling evidence or no. Guy smart than me said it, but we do need to hang together or we’ll hang separately, and whoever gets the nomination will get beat like a rented mule come November. Because of an exhausted and discouraged constituency that’s spent the past year hating each other more than the loony tune in the White House.

‘Cause, y’all, that man ain’t wrapped too tight. If anyone thought Donald Trump “learned” anything from sliding on impeachment and would thus tone down his behavior, they were drinking some bad buttermilk. I’m talking to you, Senator Susan Collins. How dumb do you feel. Also, I don’t think Mitt Romney’s vote to convict was anything more than an attempt to shore up his “legacy” and still don’t give a damn about him, he better watch his back. The M-zombies are frothing with rage at him, their burning hatred matched only God Emperor Trump’s.

But again, anyone who didn’t see that coming is a damn fool and has no one to blame but themselves.

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