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2005-01-21 @ 10:01 p.m.
and I'm smoooookin'! (help)

Here is your horoscope for Friday, January 21:
Your fan club is growing, although the members right here with you are the ones that matter most. Someone is spoiling you rotten by anticipating your every wish. It will be a long time before this magic wears off.

My Fan Club? Where? I mean I know I have the wittykitty Delusional Fan Club where all men faint in my presence and all women want to pluck their eyebrows like mine. But a real fan club? I don't think so.

I'm also a little worried about the "right here with me" part. You mean like in my bedroom? My bedroom is pretty small and I think I'd probably see them. Unless we're talking like on the TV show "Medium", where you have to have psychic abilities in order to see people tromping around a room, and if those are the type of people in my bedroom....fuckkkk! Get me out of here.

Of course, I'm all about someone spoiling me rotten and anticipating my every wish. Do people like that really exist? I mean other than for the Queen of England or Paris Hilton? I've never had anyone do that. Sure I've had people have crushes on me. But they were usually the type of guy, who would eventually goes off the deep end and sit naked on a highway overpass quoting Yeats.

I did have one admirer in high school who wrote me a poem for Valentine's Day once. It went something like this: "Dear Witty. You are pretty. If you take me to the mall, I will give you my all. Love, Steven". He was the first of my many gay boy admirers. I don't know why homosexuals think I'm so damn adorable, especially when no one seems too. I mean other then the person who is supposedly spoiling me rotten. Does spoiling me rotten include massages and a Visa Gold card?

because I'm going to be needing a Visa Gold card pretty soon, since it appears that my car decided to do a spectacular belly flop today. It had been heating up and smoking the last 4-5 times I used it and then last night the "Engine Needs Service" light came on when I was on the way to the piano bar. I had gotten somewhat used to the curl of smoke coming out from under the hood at every stop light. I thought it was the battery. The clamps don't fit right and my cousin Alan had told me that if they don't fit properly, the battery can produce arcs of electricity...kind of like in Dr. Frankenstein laboratory. So I just figured it was the damn battery smoking.

But today in my car, as I was waiting for a traffic light behind some cars, suddenly the whole interior of my car filled up with smoke. Was I freaked???????? Hell yeah! I thought my car was on fire! I was screaming at the traffic light to change since I was trapped in the middle of traffic. In the meantime I opened the car windows and thick, billowing plumes of smoke mushroomed over the top of my car. I'm sure people probably thought they were witnessing some failed suicide bomber or something. Oh and did I mention today's high temperature was ZERO fucking degrees? So all the smoke looked even more dramatic because of the bitter cold temperatures. Plus of course, there was the usual smoke pouring out from under the hood, but now that was practically ho-hum by now.

Unfortunately, I was in an area that I didn't know very well, and as you might guess, driving your car while it is billowing smoke internally and externally is kinda unnerving. Hi! Yeah....I know my car looks like a Hollywood stunt gone wrong. But please don't hate me. I promise I won't blow up.

I finally spotted a body shop and pulled in. The place was small but they had two receptionist. And for some reason they were really stern looking. But I had to throw myself at the mercy of the court receptionists and ask if somebody would be willing to come out in -1 degree weather to see if my car was going to explode. They kind of grimaced and looked at each other like I was a homeless person asking for a nickel, but then called Don. Good Ol' Don. Don went out, sprung the hood and said, "You've got a severe oil leak"...because, well, the entire engine was awash in smoking oil. Yay! But then he said they didn't do that kind of work, but Jeff down the street did. So I timidly asked if it was safe to drive the car, and he said, "Well, as long as you don't drive 20 miles."

Ha, ha, what a asshole kidder!

My hands were totally shaking though, when I started up the car again. Should I say a "Hail Mary" before I turn the ignition? Should I curse myself for not writing out a will (I'm leaving everything to you "A". But only because Guardcat can't work DVD Players or scanners). I even worried about all the naughty pictures I have of myself in my computer at home. What if I get injured and my mother has access to my computer and clicks on the images called "Lickme" and "Nip"? Christ!

But I turned the key, and nothing blew up, and I drove rather rapidly to Jeff's place three blocks away. He was pretty much your archetypal garage guy. Pot belly, 1970's mustache, baseball cap. And I once again had to throw myself at the mercy of the court. I gave him a description of what happened and then told him I was poor, as on disability, and if it was incredibly expensive I wouldn't be able to pay for it.

He was pretty nice about it though. I do have to at least pay for the diagnostic, although as soon as he popped the hood and looked at it, he pretty much let it slip, "You have a severe oil leak". Well, isn't that the diagnostic? You just diagnosed what was wrong with my engine in like 1.2 seconds. Does that mean you're still going to charge me almost $70? Yup. Plus labor. But he said he'll call me with an estimate. But since it was late Friday afternoon, and they are closed over the weekend, I won't hear anything until Monday, leaving me carless once again. Damn it all! Why do I always have a car crisis in the winter when its -9 degrees (that is the actual temperature as I write)? Taking a bus when its 70 degrees out, is far less physically painful than when the wind-chill is -21 degrees. And for those of you who don't know what that feels like, try rubbing the first 4 layers of skin off your face with a steel wool scouring pad dipped in acid. Yay!

So the main reason I was out today, other than going to a meeting at work, trying to scoop up one of those all important $8/hour paycheck hours, was to get warm. Because my house is really cold for some reason. My Eye-talian landlord pays for the heat and they have this funky, nonfunctioning thermostat on my heater which only goes to 70 degrees. I think something is not working though, because my house is freezing. Right behind where I'm sitting, I have a window with ice on the inside. I am wearing a tank top, a black turtle neck sweater, a thick wool Eddie Bauer sweater, jeans, long johns, 2 pairs of socks, slippers with lamb's wool, and a cute purple wool serape and I am still freezing. I didn't even take a shower tonight because the bathroom was so frigid. Even Guard Cat has been extra friendly, not because she likes me, but for body warmth. I slept fully clothed last night. Jeans, sweater, long johns, socks. It is just wicked. I think I mainly went to the mall today to get warm.

Of course, I didn't realize it was going to be in a nearly flaming Ford Tempo.


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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty