The wife had a coupon and took her jeep to a quick lube place for an oil change. so the next time im in my garage with the jeep for a 30 min oil change with a 6 month old in a play pen down for a nap. drain the oil pan, no problem. filter, tighter than hand tight, oh yeah quick lube changed it last. filter wrench, damn shits tight. next oil filter twists in half. those mother fuckers. baby wakes and is crying. asshole in meat truck drives up.
hey you want to buy some steaks?
no im busy.
he proceeds with the hard line approach. I contemplate shooting him(jokingly)
i tell him to get the hell off my property.
baby still crying.
threaded part of filter had to be chiseled off at a tangent to loosen up.
3 fucking hrs.
never in all of my shade tree mechanic-ing from axle rebuilds while chained to a tree on the side of a mtn in the mud and snow, to head gaskets, clutches, new pistons, brakes, water pumps, manifold studs, never have i experienced a more wanton waste of torque, nor have ever been soo fucking pissed.
fuck you oil change guy/steak peddler
Now that's getting there. Teachin that baby right. I learned from my dad the proper way to get mad....
When I was a youngster during the drought of 83 I was "helping" my dad do some plumbing on our old farmhouse. He had recently crushed a couple vertebrae twisting his back throwing a waterlogged haybale that had been too close to a spring, from the ground up onto the top run of a wagon load of hay. It was a miserable summer made worse with a bad injury. After about two weeks of barely hobbling around, our water heater then goes out and leaks everywhere. It's July, about 97,000 degrees, and he is wrastlin this old water heater out of the house by himself with his messed up back and of course we had no AC so he is primed for an epic fit of anger.
He gets the dang water heater out to the backporch and what do we hear but some voices from over the hill, back on our pond, somebody fishin on our own pond without askin! My dad says #?!!% no way is someone gonna fish, on my land, enjoying themselves why I'm workin like a dog with a down back in this heat #%%#! So he hops in the 69 Ford F100 with three on the tree and I follow like a shadow, and we are throwin dirt tearing up over that hill and I'm scared to even look at him. I'm thinkin Lord he is gonna kill these two poor SOBs with a rusty pipe wrench as sure as I'm bouncing around this cab.
We get up there and he brakes in a cloud of dust and rage, jumps out and what we behold I couldn't have guessed in a hundred years. Two of the oldest women I ever saw, in old timey black dresses, have one of the biggest snapping turtles I ever saw halfway up the bank and jumping around like they got a tiger by the tail. One of those grannies is on the end of big pair of channel locks, with that turtle bit onto onto the other end, in a life or death tug of war. The other granny has a big ball peen hammer she can barely lift and is droppin it onto his bloody head. There they are half in the pond in a muddy three way duel for the soup pot. Did I mention it was 97 billion degrees and about a million percent humidity and too hot even for dragonflies?
My dad looks at that and I guess he figures he ain't mad enough yet to tangle with two old bittys like that. The drive down was a lot quieter lol. Good thing I guess, I think he was gonna go to jail that day.
You know I miss that truck. It was rusty yellow with a red door. He traded it for a double barrel shotgun, sometime later.
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