Stupid Scootie puff. I cleaned her up, pumped up the tired, tooke her out, drained out the old gas to give to the mower (fuck that mower it doesn't deserve new gas) and filled her with fukkin PREMUIM.
And now the priss won't even turn over for me.
The battery is charged, the tank is full the carb choke and screws are all shiny and clean and she has been run and rested.
WTH!? Now its off to the mechanic for her and no "toot toot here I go a waltzing to Workie" on monday morning on my new scootie puff JR.
son of a republican than sucks.
I called Adam and he said "This is a lesson, you SUCK at waiting for things, first you had to wait to buy it, then you had to wait for plates, then to ride it, and now to ride it to work. This is good you are exercising a lesson in patience"
If I could have I would have reached through the phone and smacked him through the receiver.
I called my friend Andy instead to talk Buddhist with him since I felt like a very very bad Buddhist for the thoughts I was having against Adam. He suggested that I try to think about other things that I should be working on that my scootie puff would soon pull me away from. I thought about my knitting, my reading, my burgeoning back issues, and my poor turtle swimming in his own filth.
So reluctantly I decided to vent once, sweep up my bitch fest and then go get dinner ordered (China night) and get cracking on cleaning my cess pool of a turtle tank.
I'm thinking I want to move him in here so I can watch him swim around, I feel like he get lonely all the way up in the front room all by himself. I like watching him sun himself and raise up his feet in bliss when warm, he is a kewl guy my tommie turtle.
Off to whip together dinner and stretch out my back and try not to shoot looks at my cranky Scootie puff lounging in my garage.