Blood On My Car, Part II

We finished last time with the police officer telling me to put on shoes due to the amount of blood that would presumably be touching my bare feet if I did not have shoes on and walked outside of my apartment. My car was parked on Register “Street”, which is more like an alley. As I approached my car, I noticed two things: 1) there was blood on the driver’s side door, 2) there was blood on the sidewalk, and 3) my driver’s side mirror was ripped off and dangling.

There was apparently some sort of scuffle involving smashing beer bottles, smashing body parts, and leaving cell phones behind to be found by the police. Drunk, rowdy men are so smart.

I was pretty excited about the whole thing because I watch way too many cop shows. I was considerably less excited the next day when I had to drive with a dangling side mirror. While it might be handy for spotting ninjas clinging to the undercarriage of my car, it is not so handy for lane changing. Even less fun than driving with a dangling side mirror, is paying to have it fixed. Worst of all was pulling into the Ford dealership and trying to get the maintenance men to pay attention to me for a second. When I finally got one to come over, he looked directly at my broken side mirror and asked, “Are you the one who called about getting a side mirror fixed?” How is that even a question.

At least the incident prompted me to get my car insurance changed so I have only a $25 deductible. It’s seriously amazing that my car had not suffered damage before Register Brawl 2k9. I would add that it is amazing nobody has tried to or succeeded in stealing my car but a) it’s a stick shift, which is way better than The Club in terms of car security and b) it looks like a combination plastic recycling bin / bird poop depository. See also: manual roll-up windows.

Quotes

I have an iPhone now. The iPhone is great because I can keep text messages forever since the storage capacity is greater than that of my home computer. We all know what that means: text message greatest hits to go with the other things people have said recently or that I remembered recently for one reason or another:

“Oh snap. Dancin to [Carmina Burana] in the Funderoos.” – Nina on “So You Think You Can Dance” contestant, Brandon

“One station played an ad for a new impotence treatment at the same time the other played a spot for DirecTV. I am unaware of two more universal male interests.” – Washington Post sports writer “One station played an ad for a new impotence treatment at the same time the other played a spot for DirecTV. I am unaware of two more universal male interests.” – Washington Post sports writer Michael S. Rosenwald on the rivalry between DC area sports talk radio stations 980 & 106.7

“I had a sexy dream about Dan Steinberg.” – me on having sexy dreams about Washington Post sports bloggers who are married with kids and live in Montgomery County

“But seriously you should read his blog. I skip some of the straight sports stuff, but I live for posts like this.” – me on Dan Steinberg’s blog

(Lots of links in this entry! Is it annoying to have them pop up in a new window every time? I’d say you should leave a comment about your preference but you can’t since they don’t work. You could always email me. I like email more now because I can check it on my iPhone when I’m bored.)

Slices of Thought

Does anyone reading this know a lot about Maine, specifically living in Maine? I think I may want to, but I have a few fears (crazy lots of mosquitoes summer, crazy patchouli people, attack lobsters, being forced to work in a toothpick factory) and need answers. My brother went recently and supplied me with a few fun facts like how Maine lesbians don’t enjoy sunbathing and white people work at 7-11, but I need more info. Help, please.

I have tattoos now. If you ever want to get me talking, ask me about my tattoos, getting tattoos, how much I love boys with tattoos, tattoos in general, really. This is a no-lie conversation I had:

Him: Kristin, come here, you have to hear this.
Me: Is it tattoo-related?
Him: No, it’s…
Me: Okay, see ya.

It took me 33 years to get started, but now I am an unstoppable tattoo machine.

Speaking of unstoppable:

- What about “Nurse Jackie”? Oh shit, unstoppably the best show on TV right now.

- What about “Hung”? Does anybody like this show? I’m all for giving a show, book, movie, etc., a fighting chance before I say, “This is just wasting my time.” and stop watching or reading. I gave “Hung” four chances before I decided that my love of the actress who plays his pimp is not enough to justify the time suckage. “Hung” is like a bad turkey sandwich. Made by HBO. You can’t imagine it being anything but good (it’s a turkey sandwich, after all), so you take a few more bites and realize that it isn’t good. At all.

- “True Blood” season 2 is just okay. At this point, Sookie is annoying me, Bill’s hair is annoying me, nobody cares about Sam and I hate Tara and her dumb boyfriend*. Is Eric Northman enough to make me keep watching the show? (Yes**.) I could say more here about just HOW MUCH Bill’s hair is annoying me, but shall refrain. Except for this: is he wearing a wig for some reason? What is going on with his bangs, I’m serious.

* SPOILER ALERT: The blood pie? I can suspend disbelief like nobody’s business but Jesus Christ, come on, nobody would just dive right into a pie that bleeds profusely when punctured. After seeing the preview for next week’s episode Tara and her dumb boyfriend and their stupid storyline promise to become even more annoying, if that is even possible. Did I ruin my Season 2+ episode-watching enjoyment by reading all of the books after Season 1 ended? Probably. I’d love to hear from people who have not read the books: are you enjoying Season 2 more, less, or the same as you did Season 1?

** No offense to Dan Steinberg, but I wouldn’t mind having a sexy dream about Alexander Skarsgård. I mean, my god. I don’t even know what I would do if I saw him on the street. Well, first I would probably ask him what the hell he’s doing in Baltimore and would he like to go have sex in my bed. Haha, that’s a total lie. I would probably start laughing uncontrollably and try to hide behind my purse.

It’s so hot in Baltimore. They have “cooling stations” in the city. I wonder what these cooling stations are like, but then again, I probably already know: lots of stinky people sitting in the air conditioning that is failing to work very well because there are too many stinky people in the room. I wish the cooling stations were like a mint gum commercial with icy blasts and skiing and perfect, white teeth, but I doubt that’s the case.

Speaking of icy blasts, my other possible place to move is Sweden where my neighbors will be Norway, Alexander Skarsgård and the Arctic Circle. I will return to the motherland. Or, in this case, the great-grandfatherland. My first and last names will fit right in! I will realize the dream of speaking actual Swedish to Swedish people instead of speaking fake Swedish to my brother. You have no idea how much this idea excites me. Give me money. Let’s make this happen. (If you’re seriously going to surprise me with an open-ended plane ticket to Sweden and a grant to study the life and times of Alexander Skarsgård, please let me know ahead of time, because I have no idea where my passport is and need to get my hair cut.)

Speaking of not being able to find things in my apartment, I think the only things I can find reliably are the three different cat carriers that are too small for my one cat, curry powder and the TV remotes. A particular shirt, my digital camera battery charger, fingernail clippers…it’s a gamble, really. I guess what I’m saying is I need an assistant or a wife, or perhaps a Swedish apartment in Sweden with lots of amazing Swedish organizational accoutrements.

Wow, that’s a lot for one entry, I think. Done and done.

k.