I love 3-day weekends. I get to spend time with Mrs. Fixer and our little monster and just decompress. The problem with long weekends is the 4-day week that follows.
You might say, "you're an asshole, Fixer-man. One less day of work is a good thing." Not in the car business. A 3-day weekend gives people an extra day to break shit, especially with all the partying associated with 'The First Weekend of Summer'. We have a saying. 'Instant Moron: Just add alcohol.' (I myself have proven it doing extensive field research.) You drove your car over what? And where did those feathers come from?
Also, the week is compressed, all the work, less time. As I said before, we're a small shop. It's not like there's 10 mechanics working constantly. There are three of us turning wrenches and that means one of us has to work outside today. Did I mention it's raining? I guess it beats snow.
And speaking of doing shit in the rain, I just put gas in Mrs. F's Explorer this morning and I paid $2.30 for regular. Between gas and cigarettes, it'd be cheaper to have a cocaine habit. Did you know that 70% of the price of a pack of smokes in New York is taxes? You know, rather than turning smokers into pariahs, we should be elevated to an exalted position in society. We're killing ourselves so you non-smoking crazies can have your city services. Instead of bitching at me for smoking within 50 ft. of the front door of your building (it's an NYC law, thank you Mayor Bloomberg, you little troll) you should thank me for sacrificing my lungs to shoulder such a large tax burden. Thankfully now, I buy mine from the sovereign American-Indian Nation of the Poospatuck. Fuck you, Mayor Bloomberg, fuck you, Governor Pataki. And most of all, fuck you, President Tax-cut-for-the-wealthy. Look at it as the White Man (half-white in my case) giving something back to the people whose shit we stole in the first place.
Boy, that turned into a rant, didn't it? Well, dog's empty and I'm off to the mines. See you later.
Update 15:50: I'm watching MSNBC and these fucking busybodies in California are enacting no smoking laws on the BEACH. Hello, assholes, the beach is outside. Outside! Out-fucking-side! And don't worry about your kids eating cigarette butts, I did it when I was a kid and look at me! Yeesh, soon we won't be able to smoke in our own houses.
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