Carnundrum

So a few weeks ago, I fixed my car to the tune of $2400. I drove my car to Iowa at 55mph to have the lowest bidder replace my transmission.

Well, there's been some new vibrations emanating from my car, which turn out to be a bad axle. The other one isn't far behind. The wobbly axle created damage on another component, so I'm looking at another $800 to keep driving my car.

Including the diagnostic fees, after this week, I'll have spend nearly $4000 within the scope of less than 2 months on my car.

Fuck. Say Goodbye to that trip to Norway.

You Just can't win

In October, I paid the last payment on my car. I made 52 monthly payments, 8 months ahead of the loan. I was very happy to have finished paying it off and be able to know that the entire car was owned by me-- not by the bank, and that I could really start saving money.

Earlier this week, I was driving around and found that my car wouldn't shift into the highway gear. Today, I found out that I need a new transmission. I was quoted $3,750.00 to replace it. The trade-in value on my car is ~$3600.00. It's worth about $5000 to a private buyer.

I do have some time to decide what to do-- I can actually still drive my car around, it just takes higer engine speeds on the highway--I'm burning gas about twice as fast as I usually do.

Interesting to note that I recently had the transmission serviced. I was pressured by the dealer to have my transmission flushed, since it was at it's recommended mileage. I had it done mid-way through January, just before my trip to Michigan. Today I was shocked to read this about transmission flushes. Turns out, this probably caused the transmission to fail. My car has 115000 miles on it.

I feel like I want to puke.

I called my dad back home. He talked to the dealership who I bought the car from, and they quoted $2600 for the replacement. Turns out the (rebuilt) transmission costs them about $1900.

Hmmmm. I don't need to pay someone $1000 to fuck me in the ass. I'm pretty sure I could find someone to do if for free on Craigslist. The crooks at Village Chevrolet in Wayzata will never get my business again.

I've mulled selling it and buying another *much more reasonably priced* car, but I think I'm going to fix it. Except I'm going to make the rats fight for their fucking cheese. I'm going to fax a "request for quote" to just about every shop in town, and see who wants to compete for my business.

Anyways, this all totally shoots a hole in the trip to Norway that I was planning for June. I was budgeting $3500 for that trip.

Just my luck

Today, I was getting an oil change and the serviceman steps into the waitingroom. I hate servicemen at car dealerships--without even knowing them, I know they're trying to fuck me big time.

He tells me that the CV boot is leaking. This means you have to pull everything apart: wheel, brakes, axle, etc...to replace the boot, and probably replace an expensive hub.

The serviceman quoted me the price to do both sides, since apparently you have to take both side apart to get at one boot. Doing both sides together would save me $60 in labor---here's the mind boggling part....THE OTHER SIDE ISN'T FUCKING BROKEN!!

He actually wanted me to pay an extra $250-$300 to fix & replace parts that are working fine!!!!

Fuck You,Village Chevrolet. Fuck you.

My Poor Car

Today I shake my fist at the sky. Not because I'm angry at God or something. I'm pissed at the bird that has been pooping on my car. Twice this week.

I say a bird instead of birds, because there cannot be many birds in minnesota that can drop bombs like those that hit my car.



At first, I though someone hit my car with a can of paint. Nope. Bird poop.


I don't wash my car very often. It's red, so it's pretty difficult to see dirt on it. But you can probably see this from space, so I washed it.

The next day, more poop. But thiiiis time, the bird with the herculean butt decided to poop at the top of my door, so it would made a white streak down the side of my car.

I can't imagine what kind of bird that would do this, unless it was actually a harrier jet that landed on my Pontiac. And what could this thing have eaten? It would have had to have flown a looong ways from White Castle. Unless. It walked. Perhaps I should be shaking my fist down, too.

I hope you weren't eating.