SHUT UPPP

My car is amazing. For starters, her name is Dirty Girl, she's always messy and only gets washed when it rains, and she's got a nekkid Dirty Girl air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror. Which I can't find any more of so if anybody sees some or knows where I can get some hook it up. ANYWAY - she's also a PSYCHIC. About three days ago I got in the car and the little display that shows the odometers and how much oil I have left had a little message for me: CHECK FUEL CAP. Ok...? So I hopped out and checked the gas tank - nope, everything's fine! Weird. I turned the car back on, same message. So I did what I always do when I get messages that seem unimportant, I ignored it. Every time I turned the car on after that there it was, though, reminding me to check the fuel cap that had nothing obviously wrong with it. Lots of theories floated through my head: This is a ploy from the manufacturer to make me take it in to get it checked out and they're gonna tell me I need about $600 worth of repairs. Those shady kids that hang out in the parking lot messed with my car and replaced my gas cap with Pogs. (Do kids still play with Pogs? Get off my lawn!) There's actually something wrong with the car and the wheels are going to fall off at any second. You know, the usual stuff that runs through your head.
D and I decided that we were just going to let Dirty Girl act weird and quirky and when we take her in to get the visor fixed (long story...) we'll ask them about it. Sure enough, for the next two days every time I turned the car on there it was: CHECK FUEL CAP. So weird!! And then yesterday I had to stop for gas on my way to the gym. I was rushing to cycling class so I only put about half a tank in and hopped back in the car and there was the message again, telling me to check the fuel cap. But wait...something felt different this time. I carefully retraced my steps in my head: swiped the credit card, fueled up, got a receipt, put the fuel hose away, got back in the car and drove away. That's right. I left the gas tank open with the cap dangling in the wind as I drove all the way to the gym. Holy crap. And my car warned me about it three days ago. Coincidence, that the car gives a random nonsensical message about the gas cap two days before I accidentally drive off with the gas cap open for the first and only time ever? Or was it...psychic car? I think the second one.

How To Be Awesome #434: Put out a kitchen fire.

That's right, remember when I told you all those things about how my appliances are trying to kill/maim me? They went for the throat last week. I was hanging out in the living room with the Pug when I smelled something burning. I was kind of a weird kid back in the day so I'm familiar (or was back then at least) with the smell of melting plastic (I don't have to explain to you!). Anyway - I start wandering around in search of said melting plastic smell when I realize it's coming from the dishwasher. CRAP! It was on the "auto dry" setting or whatever where it heats up and dries your dishes for you so I grabbed the fire extinguisher which is inconveniently located in the sink, on the other side of the potential fire. Suck! I spent WAY too long examining the fire extinguisher trying to figure it out, making sure I knew which pin to pull, how to actually fire the thing, and which direction to point it in. Yeah that's right, I have total faith in the idea that my dishwasher can contain a fire for as long as it takes me to figure out the frickin fire extinguisher, what up? Anyway, I eventually opened the dishwasher and sure enough, there was a plastic lid to one of those Tupperware containers, burning away down at the bottom of the dishwasher, making all my stuff smell like gross burning plastic. It was totally not worthy of the fire extinguisher so I just grabbed a nearby cup of water and tossed it down in the bottom of the dishwasher. BOO! And then the apartment smelled like melted plastic for about four hours. But I'm a firefighter now and it's awesome.

I talked Griff into going to get our asses kicked this morning in a boot camp class. Fun! Wait, what's the opposite of fun? Anyway - We're standing around before class talking about some weird crap that happened last night (I'm sure that'll pop up on the blog soon) and suddenly Griff shoots me a Look. I glanced around and then I figured out what it meant: 1987 called, they want their music video wardrobe back. SERIOUSLY. Do you remember Jazzercise? How about Jessie, Kelly, and Lisa's music video from Saved By The Bell? This lady's outfit would have made any of them jealous. I don't know if words will convey the awesome. She had on turquoise bicycle shorts under a purple and blue leotard (LEOTARD!) with bright orange socks and white tennis shoes. Amazing! Where do you even get turquoise bike shorts and leotards anymore? I've got to hand it to her though, my ass would not look good in the outfit she was rockin. Then she velcro-ed on some of those ankle weight thingies to each leg, but apparently the strain was too much because she only did about half of the stuff the class was doing. Here's a tip: Take off the ankle weights. Now go change your clothes.

With yesterday's post about a big crime FAIL, I had to post an amazing crime WIN today! I don't know who did this (If it was you e-mail me you're my new BFF!) but it's quite possibly the most awesome thing ever to happen to road signs in Austin. Things to watch out for in Austin: Hippies, Leslie, and Nazi Zombies. Whoever you are, I effing love you, man. Or lady.



And suck it, people who say it's a "hazard". The roads are confusing enough without your "helpful" detour signs; I'd way rather be warned about the zombies than "MLK Closed Ahead...Still...After Three Months...Use 15th Instead...Still."

AND it's the Top Story. Even better. I love you, Universe. Sorry I was mad at you the other day - we're cool. <3

Who says there's nothing good in the newspaper? Or in this case the "online newspaper". I was goofing off on the Statesman's website and guess what I found: 1 of 2 thong-facemask robbery suspects sentenced. NOT A JOKE! These guys actually (kind of hilariously) robbed a store with women's thongs on their faces. You know, as a disguise. I like to think it went down like this:

Robber #1: You know, our usual getups are so uncomfortable and frumpy. I'm tired of putting pantyhose over my head and my ski mask's in the wash! What to do?
Robber #2: Want to try boxer-briefs?
Robber #1: No, man, how are we supposed to see?
Robber #2: We could try some sheer lingerie? Or something lacy?
Robber #1: I've got it: THONGS!
Robber #2: Oh dude that's perfect! You wear blue, I'll wear green!

And the rest is history. I wish I could find a surveillance photo so I could put it on Failblog. It's probably best that they're getting locked up; these guys were due for a Darwin Award.

OMG I suck at checkout lines. I don't get it! Does this happen to everybody? If you ever, ever see me in a store and I've got fewer than ten things in my hands and I'm headed for the checkout line, run the other way or at least make sure you avoid my line at all costs. Last night, Dale needed to pick up one thing, ONE THING, at Wal-Mart. Now, this might be karma because Wal-Mart is the Eevilest, most horrible corporation, but somebody sent D's work a Wal-Mart gift card and so he was using it to help pay for a Wii, which they're using as a prize for their casino night coming up on Thursday at work. It was after 10:00 pm when we got there so we wandered over to the electronics and found what we needed. Capitalism win! Oh but wait, we still have to check out. There was one person in front of us, and of course the cashier (Who definitely had the "Wal-Mart" look and wasn't far from being what some of my friends might consider "not a real person".) can't figure out how to ring up the one item the lady in front of us has. Seriously? EVERY FREAKING TIME! Finally after about seven minutes of futile attempts, the cashier calls for reinforcements and a person with a key comes and helps her ring up the DVD player or whatever it was. Great! Fantastic! Our turn. S...he? I'm pretty sure? She? Maybe "he" but I finally decided I think it was a she. With the super scary meth teeth. Anyway, the cashier rings us up, D goes to use the gift card annnnd...FAIL. Like, the whole machine does something weird, it won't authorize the gift card, and (of course) it's taking forever. I wandered off to look at random stuff (You can buy Space Camp AND WarGames in a two-pack for $7.50 at Wal-Mart! It's how the evil empire sucks you in!) and when I get back they still haven't figured it out. The cashier goes "Sorry, I'm a new cashier, let me call customer service..." and finally another person with a key shows up, fixes it, and we get out of there. But WTF?! Why does Wal-Mart have a new person working in electronics by themselves? And WHYYYY does that crap happen to me every time I have to buy something? Suck it, Universe.

The Movie: Taken
Seen On: I don't remember At: Alamo Drafthouse Lake Creek With: Dale & Ben, my movie buddies!
Who's In It: Liam Neeson, Famke Janssen, Maggie Grace
In 100 Words: “Taken” happens because seventeen year old Kim and her mom convince her retired-spy dad that she should go to Europe with her friend Amanda. Cautious Dad’s instincts were right: Kim and Amanda are kidnapped from their apartment by Albanian human traffickers. Luckily, she’s on the phone with Dad when it all goes down, and gives him enough info to begin his search. Then he must use all his special ninja-spy skills to break up the trafficking ring and retrieve Kim before she is sold to an Arab sheikh as a sex slave (no, really, that’s what is going to happen).
It's Kind Of Like: The Bourne movies, Ransom, and every episode of CSI ever.
Running Time: 1 hour, 33 minutes. Feels Like: That's about right.
Favorite Quote: "That is what happens when you sit behind a desk. You forget things, like the weight in the hand of a gun that's loaded and one that's not." Pretty badass, actually.
Sucker Punch Count: At least 60, I completely lost count.
How It Changed My Life: I totally want to be a ninja spy now.
I'd Recommend This Movie For: People who care more about watching exciting fight sequences instead of being critical of writing or, in some cases, acting; adrenaline junkies
Final Rating: 4 Awesomes (Out of 5). Definitely not bad.