Kermie update

Kermie's 9.

Later, all!

...Art

Hey Shorty, it's your birthday...

Join me in wishing our little green buddy Kermie a happy birthday.

I should get a new picture of Kermie, but I mean... his kind hasn't changed in millions of years, and true to that, Kermie hasn't changed since that picture was taken either.

I need to check in with Christina to sort out just which year we're celebrating now; I'll post an update when I find out.

Happy birthday Kermie... I hope there'll be many more.

...Art

Move, bitch...

So I got home this morning at around 1:30am only to find some fucking rusty piece-of-shit Toyota Tercel is parked in my spot.

...yeah, most of you know where this is going...

Coat hanger in hand, I tried opening the doors. I'll give Toyota this much; it's not easy to open those damned things. After messing around for a while with the driver's door, I moved on to the passengers. Then one of the back ones. No luck.

I thought maybe I'd just block the car in with my car, but realized there was at least a metre of space between the wall and the car. I'd inconvenience them, sure, but it's not enough to keep me happy. Finally, I decided to go in through the trunk.

Fished the coat hanger past the gasket, around the latch cable, gave it a little tug... and pop! I then had to release one of the back seats, as the fucking thing doesn't have little handles from the trunk side to drop the back seat. Pissed, I pushed on the seat. Nothing. As I was feeling around for the next set of latches I'd get to deal with, the OTHER half of the split seat dropped. Sweet, it wasn't latched correctly. Boo-yeah.

Crawled into the car, opened the back door, came out, opened the front door, went for the glove box and helped myself to the car's ownership. I wanted to go to the buzzer and see if the name on the ownership matched any entries in the building's buzzer system. If so, I was going to wait until 4am to give them a call and ask them to move their car. No one likes being up at 4am, except disturbed people like me.

Little problem.

"AKINYEMI, ONOLADE, IBIWUNMI"

I'm not making this shit up, that's the name on the registration. There was nothing in the buzzer system that came close to any of those... "names", I guess...

I looked up the phone number registered to the address on the ownership, but the name there doesn't match any of the names on the ownership. I'm thinking of calling them anyway now, though really I don't know what to say. See, after I didn't find any matches in the building, I removed the interlock cap for the car's transmission. Fucking automatics, sorta helps to have the key to get those out of Park, failing that though defeating the interlock isn't too much of a problem. I pushed it into two other spaces, diagonally because the steering wheel locked on me so I couldn't really control the direction of the car. Hopefully the owners of one or both of those spots takes up the torch in the morning though I don't remember anyone ever parking there.

Anyway, I'm thinking I should draw up an invoice for moving the car. Figure $150 wouldn't be too far out of the ballpark for towing services at this hour in the morning, eh? Heh... poor people. They had no idea they'd end up pissing me off, now they have to deal with me.

Oh well.

...Art