New Toys and ADD: Part II

“Dear Board Members,

I have attached pictures of Charlotte’s new Caddy to this email. I think that she named it after herself. With that said, Charlotte is fully aware that Charlotte is in need of some cosmetic, and functional servicing. Indeed, the wonder of American ingenuity and chariot of old school pimpery does need some care. However, that is part of the reason for Charlotte’s acquisition of Charlotte.

It is with consideration that I have used my discretionary authority as Board President to instate a non-interference policy. Anyone interfering with Charlotte’s work, driving, or general attitude toward Charlotte will be severly reprimanded, possibly dismissed from employ, and definitely tazed. This policy applies ANYWHERE either Charlotte may happen to be at the time.

Thank you for you cooperation in this matter.

X. Rothechilde”


I was forced to send out that email in regard to folks interfering with Charlotte’s new automobile. I thought that may have to send it out again, this time referencing myself. Then, I got the impression that my point had gotten across. Now, I have decided to send it out as soon as this blog entry has been completed.

You see, lately Samurai City has be overrun by zombies. Fortunately, these zombies do not eat your brain. They are contagious, if you are not careful, however. Instead of munching your gray matter, these zombies attempt to sap your joy, and make you into a mindless yes-man with no independent will. These zombies are repair zombies. They have shuffled loose their reruns of “Home Improvement” in favor of making those close to them feel as small as possible. Sure, most would call the effect these zombies have on a body the work of succubi or incubi. However, an incubus or succubus usually attacks in the night. If they caught you awake, maybe they would seduce you or at the least acknowledge your protests of their invasion. Zombies do not. The ignore you. The move on with only their goal in mind with no consideration of what the victim is feeling, thinking, screaming, shrieking…

Today, I decided it was time for me to take a break from “LA Noire” and do a little more work on my motorcycle. Actually, yesterday was when I made the decision. I went out and repaired a small problem with the ground wires in the bike’s rear turn signal. While it was a small, insignificant thing to accomplish, it felt good to be out there doing it on my own.

For those of you who did not read part one of my motorcycle tale, here is a little backstory. A friend of mine knows a fellow who was selling a motorcycle. I bought the thing for one hundred dollars. However,the whole deal was on the verge of becoming a tremendous regret and frustration for me. What was acquired as my first attempt at restoration, was rapidly being hijacked by some who seem as if the doubt my capabilities.

Today was the day that I was supposed to see what was going on with my killswitch. Only, I was thwarted. Someone shows up, starts dismantling my crank case to find an oil leak, and proceeds to start telling me what to do! I had an order, my order has been fucked. I am beyond pissed. I just walked away and went to smoke. He can have the motherfucker. I am just getting sick of the whole situation.

My new baby, before she was usurped and left for naked.

Eventually, I came out of hiding. When I did, I was being told that the screws that had been removed are now in the correct place. The crankcase cover that was removed is now just dangling, the gearshift and footpeg unconnected. The inside of the crankcase gathering dirt and grime. Since I did not do the assembly completely on my own and at the least, an angle where I could see, I am not sure exactly how it goes back together. All of this was done out of a hurry to get me out riding something that I want to take the time to learn about first. All of this was done with no consideration of how I may feel about what is going on after I made my feelings on the issue abundantly clear.

My poor bike is now sitting exposed and collecting dust. Having OCD, I am having a near impossible time letting it sit like that (why the fuck take something apart before you have all of the elements to repair it?!) and am on the brink of a major anxiety attack. I need a sedative.



  1. And is there a reason that you can’t just tell whoever these people are to go fuck themselves?

    I can’t wait to see Charlotte all fancied up! I meant the car, although I would look at the other one too, but that is beside the point. That is so cool. I’m sure she has a bad time with the interference thing, because she is female. I can only imagine the shit I would have to listen to and the amount of laughing people would do if I were trying to fix up a sweet ride.

    1. I have told said person to back off several times. I have even advise said person that I would appreciate a call before he drops over. I believe he may get my point now.

      I shall pass on that message to Charlotte, if you play your cards right, you can see both of them all done up.

      1. That would be awesome!

        As for this person, I could send them a dead fish or some other sort of Sicilian message. I don’t think I am actually Sicilian, but someone in the line of people behind me is Italian, so I might be able to get away with it. At the very least, I am very good at thinking up vindictive things.

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