Do you ever have one of those days when you wake up so angry that
you want to rip paper, beat a drum with a stick of pepperoni, eat raw cookie
dough at a Weight Watchers Convention, and show cows pictures of hamburgers.
You know, super villain stuff. That is how I woke up today. After getting a
paper cut from the papers I was tearing, eating the pepperoni, and not being
able to find a Weight Watcher (I live in a chunky neighborhood) or a cow (they
don’t like living in this part of town due to the chunky neighbors love of
roast beef), I decided to take it up a notch. I did something that was truly
horrifying since my mood was bad already. My car now has a new alternator.
Before you jump to any erroneous conclusions, yes I did do it
myself. Normally, I don’t like to do mechanical work since I have limited
skills in spite of my dad’s best efforts. He tried and tried to teach me about
motors and carburetors and the joy of peeing down the drain the garage. Okay,
the peeing part I liked. Now, thanks to his tutelage, I can change the oil or
the spark plugs and have excellent urinal aim. I have changed a fuel pump which
involved removing the bed from a Ford Ranger. Gas tanks don’t drop far enough
when you don’t have a car lift. Who knew? But this project was one that I faced
with courage, determination, several YouTube videos on my computer and alcohol.
You would think the booze would have been a deterrent. It helped. Trust me.
This is where the article gets technical. I removed the
doomalflatchy from the gizmo. I took out two bolts to free up the
whoziwhatsit, then had to remove the nut that freed up the other part of the whoziwhatsit.
It was at this point that I realized the doohickey had broken off the gizmo so
I would need to get a new doohickey before the gizmo would work right. After
taking the snakenstein belt off with the spring loaded zipzip bouncing back
cutting my finger, the alternator was free to fall on my foot. I won’t bother
telling you about putting the new one on because I was drinking by that point
and it’s all a little fuzzy.
It only took two trips to the auto parts store, eighteen
band-aids, three stitches, one new tool (Yea!) and a five shots of spiced rum
and butterscotch schnapps. The shots are equal parts of each, placed in a
shaker with ice, and poured into shot glasses. It is so good it makes you
forget about the blood loss from your hand being mangled in a snakenstein belt
that did not want to go back on the way it came. These shots are a must-have
for any auto repair task.
So who needs help? I’m ready to try my hand at fixing your car.
Did I ever tell you about the time I broke a gas tank while changing the oil.
Funny story…
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