In lieu of a haiku I would like to post what was going through my head while I was sparring Saturday. If you have ever seen "Best of the Best", first, I apologize and will assist in praying for your soul. Secondly, you know the same band that plays at all the hippest 7-11s was brought in at great expense (almost 11 dollars!) to do the soundtrack. Here is what was going through me head, enjoy:
You're the best....of battle!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down!
You're the bes-WHAPPPP!
It was at this point, gentle reader, that I had forgotten I was sparring with someone and caught a fist on the nose. There was a terrible moment when I touched said nose and noticed it was a big flat glob on my face. This moment passed when I remembered I am black and my nose has always been a huge glob on my face. great times.
Anyhoo, I wanted to post about what all happened during my week off... did you miss me? Did you even notice I was not on here? Answer to both? A no, but a guilty no, and that's all I am going for.
So Smeagol is still looking for a car. Some of you will not believe this, but all of those requests you sent in to fill out a credit application for the Smeagolese have either been lost or misdelivered, because I have been checking my email and still do not see any of those, so please resend.
Anyhoo, apparently Smeagol was still on the raptor prowl, scoping out deals in his budget to affordicate some transportation-time, and he found it: a mid-1980's Toyota Tercel for 475 dollars cash. Note that the windshield said "475 - cash", this information will come in handy in a minute. Matter of fact, write that down. I'll wait...
Got it?
OK, so Smeagol walks up to the no doubt grungy salesman (this is 23rd and Jackson after all), and, according to both JJ and my Dad, informed the gentleman that he intended to make payments on this car and proceeded to tell him how he intended on making said payments, with an initial down payment of 75 dollars and monthly payments of about 30 dollars.
The salesman, perhaps secure in the knowledge that though we are in a recession that this was not 1935, informed Smeagol that no, he did not intend to take payments on a car he specifically priced at less than a down payment to get off his lot in the first place, and with that the bartering game was afoot, or araptor, if you choose. Long story short, Smeagol got the guy to take 75 down, and 50 dollars a month, and with that, he got JJ to drive him around to somehow borrow 75 dollars to make the down payment.
So he finally gets the cash, and goes to get the car, and when they get there, where the car had been sitting is now an oil slick, but for the sake of making the story funnier picture a masturbating homeless person, eyes rolled back in his head in ecstasy, maybe butthole puckered up and his free hand gently tickling around the shit hole... or just picture the oil slick. Jesus, I have to stop writing these right before lunch.
Smeagol raptors up to pay, and the guy informs him that while he was gone some guy gave him 475 dollars and bought the car. Smeagol was angry, nay, furious, and the entire ride home was doing his angered grunt of raptor. Finally he lights on an idea: "Since Stevester will not sign on a car for me' he cooed, 'he will just have to sell me the Escort!" I like how Smeagol feels it is everyone else's job to assure him a life of happiness and comfort, and anyone who does not buy into that is a total jerk.
So Dad told me to expect a call this week from him, as he told everyone he could see no reason I would not give him the escort yet keep the tags and insurance in my name for all time. Awesome.
There was more, but I will have to post on all that later.
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