My car is like that guy I saw at Smith's downtown a few weeks ago. He was wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with red Stelleto high heels...I would consider him a bad tranny...well the Rodeo's got a bad tranny...it's transmission is going. I went to get on the freeway at 90th South and it just reved up in the middle of the busy intersection, I wasn't moving at all, it finally slipped into gear after a lot of shaking and sputtering about. Then once on the freeway each time it would shift it would rev up real loud and clunk into gear, all the while the "check trans" light was flashing. So looks like my tax refund won't be going towards a trip to New York to see 9 to 5 on Broadway. Stupid cars!
Tonight after I had laid down to go to bed I heard a lot of talking coming from the apartment below me. It wasn't that big of a deal, but as far as I know the guy who lives below me lives alone. The other voice sounded like a really old guy. It was all whinny and quivery like someone on their death bed, then it would be quiet and I would hear the younger sounding voice. I couldn't understand what was being said, just loud mumbling. It was really weird. I don't normally eaves drop on my neighbors, but it was after midnight and started abruptly. I thought it was just the TV, but I could also hear the TV noise a little quieter. I hope everything is OK. The guy who lives there is really nice, but one of those people you hear about that "always keeps to themselves." That never ends up good. He hardly ever leaves, I think he works out of his house, his kitchen window is right by the door, so when his blinds are open you can see in, it looks like its a portal to 1955. I have visions of him keeping his deformed older brother chained up in his bedroom...In fact one of the only things I think I understood last night was "Rocky Road??"
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