Check Engine... or else.

Well I know, I've become somewhat blog-slacker as of late. I admit it. There's a lot more goin though! Sometimes the memoir's gotta be the sacrificial lamb for churning out one amazing show after another. Dig?! Good...

Yes, a lot going on these days. More responsibilities on the show, in life! I wish John had Brian take that Bazooka bat to my car last week instead of me- it might have gotten my "Check Engine" light to shut off, and I coulda passed inspection! Unfortunately yesterday, I had to dip my hand deeper into my pockets than I did my face in mayo. And it was just to pay off a garage to tell me I failed inspection AND emissions!

Thanks, Tom (and fellow grease monkeys). I'm happy to dish out $95 for you to look at my tires and say 3 are shabby, and see that my check engine light is on. That's a sweet lil' pay-to-fail racket you got yourselves there- I'm in the wrong business! Good thing you're not my dentist... "Smile. Teeth could be whitened... 200 dollars, please." Or my landlord... "Your grass cutting sucks- rent's doubled!" Maybe my college professor... "Your thesis is a piece of shit- give me 50 bucks. Now."

God almighty. How does any car pass inspection?! Have you ever seen ANY car, made before 1998, that HASN'T had that stupid light on?>! I freakin' hate that light, man. That God-forsaken little orange turd that blinks... that obnoxious, money-costing, good-for-nothing, fear-mongering, choad sentence that now haunts me EVERY TIME I SIT BEHIND THE WHEEL!

Let this be a lesson to you, DeBella fans... don't let that little light stare you down much longer! It will get you. I don't care if you have to crawl up into the hood, inside your car, fore-arm deep in a jungle of twisted metal, gears and boiling oil... shut that damn light off!