Just Change My Damn Oil

Like death, taxes and Paris Hilton sleeping with someone new tonight, it is inevitable. Every three months it happens. I get that little card in the mail that says:

Dear Jimmy,

Our records indicate that your 1995 Chevy Camero 2005 Ferrari F50 is due for an oil change. Your local service provider is located at 123 Somewhere Lane.

We appreciate your business,

EZ/Jiffy/(Pick any word that means fast) Lube


Oil change companies, such as Jiffy Lube or EZ Lube, are basically the DMV of the auto repair industry. You never end up getting out of there in a timely manner and you end up having to do more shit than is told to you up front. It doesn’t matter how recently you had a tune-up the people who change your oil WILL find something wrong.

Hey guy with the greasy Dickies and filthy fingernails, just change my god damn oil. My car worked just fine when I drove it up the ramp over there. Why is it that everything is broken now that you’ve touched it?

Look, I know my air filter has a little dirt on it, that’s what it does, it filters air. So no, I don’t want a new one. The one I have works perfectly fine. Ohh so you think my rear differential fluid is almost low? Perfect, well then I will almost pay you if you decide to put any more in. You’ll give $45 off a tire rotation? Unless you mean you are going to pay me to rotate my tires I think I’ll pass. You see, I couldn’t drive my car if my tires didn’t rotate and I can tell you that they rotate just fine, as I was able to pull into this black hole for my money. So let me assure you, my tires rotate.

No, I’m not trying to be an asshole. All I’m sayin is I just want my oil changed, that’s it. When I pulled into this place what did you ask me? Let me refresh your memory…you said, “here for an oil change?” I responded happily with, “yes, please.” You took down my information and told me my car would be done in 20 minutes and the quote at the bottom of the page said $25…A perfect synergy between agent and client. Now let’s look at your proposition...45 minute wait and my bill suddenly adopted an extra 0 at the end of it. I can’t be sitting around here all day waiting for all this stuff. So please, just change my oil.

Ok, I get it; you work on more cars than me. Yes, I understand you looked under the hood. No, I don’t want people telling me how to do my job, either. Can I ask you something? When you walk into Supercuts what do you do? Right, just like me...walk in ask for a hair cut and then expect to leave after having paid the, predetermined, bill. Do they barrage you with questions like, “would you like a $50 hair coloring, I saw one grey hair while I was back there?” or “perhaps you prefer a deep conditioning treatment you look like you ALMOST have split ends?” No. They don’t. Why? Because they understand their, specialized, job. If you want all that crap done, to your hair, you go to a professional hair salon, just like if I want all this stuff done to my car I go to a full service car mechanic.

Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…but please, I’m begging you, just change my fucking oil. You will? Really? Wonderful, I’ll just wait here. Here’s your 25 bucks. Thanks, I appreciate it. Ok, take care! *sniff sniff* What’s that? Smells like something’s over heating…meh…looks like it’s time for a new air filter, that’s ok I’ve got time to kill.

Valentines Day - The Day Women Won

Ok I’ll say it. Every girl expects every (straight) guy to say it. So I’m going to fucking say it…Valentines Day blows ass. It is a crappy ‘holiday’…actually…it isn’t a holiday so I’m not going to call it as such. Valentines Day isn’t even based on any historical event; no one ACTUALLY knows what its roots are…that is, no one except for me. There are theories that St. Valentine was martyred for not giving up his Christian religion and died on Feb. 14, thus a celebration of his death. There are also stories of this, so called, Valentine person falling for a jailers daughter and would write her letters and sign them “From your Valentine.” All those are nothing more than legends and hogwash (note: I tried really hard to use that word and not come back and bring it up, but it’s too funny a word to not point out). The way Valentines Day really came to be was on a fateful evening in February back in the 2nd century.

There was this guy, we’ll call him Ted Valentine, courting a young lass, we’ll call her Bitchotress Valentine (or B for short), for whom he was particularly fond. Ted spent hours trying to gain B’s love and when he finally did, they consummated their love…regularly. Ted was happy as a clam; meanwhile, B seemed like she was happy while they were together. What more could this happy couple need? They regularly spent time together. They had plenty of sex…umm…rather…they made love often (or at least that’s what Ted told B that’s what they were doing…with a straight face too!!). They rarely fought and when they did, it was only minor. Then IT happened, the worst thing to happen to MANkind. On February, 14th 2nd century, as Ted was prepping his partner for another rampant sex sess…night sharing each others love, B decided she didn’t want anything to do with it.

No booty for Ted that night. Ted was sad. Ted wanted to know what the deal was. B filled him on her ‘dilemma.’ She sat him down and explained to him, “Ted you know how I feel about you, and I think I know how you feel about me. Spending every night with you is fantastic, I couldn’t be happier. Actually, that’s a lie*, I could be happier.” Ted interjects with, “ohh my dear what could it be? I tend to your needs just about every day of the year. I take you out to eat. I even buy you gifts and pick flowers for you every now and then.” Bithotress feels it is now her time to say something, “See that’s just it, you are great to be with but you never do ALL that stuff in the same day. You should be willing to take me out to a restaurant that’s $50** a plate then go out on the town for a while, where we can view a $40 show at the theater. You should wake me up with a gift of jewelry, and by jewelry, I mean Tiffany’s. Not any of crappy Kay Jewelers shit. I should be showered with flowers all day; roses are only $60 for a dozen. I should be given candy till I can no longer eat that $50 plate we are GOING to have. When all that happens, I will make love to you again.”

*please note: That line was not ever said…that line I had to add in on my own. Women never admit when they lie. Everything else is totally what she said!
**Despite what you might be thinking…American Dollars did exist in the 2nd century…that’s how awesome America is…

Although, he did not know it at the time, the fate of men everywhere rested in Ted’s hands, this night. He could have just walked away from such a demand. He could have written history in favor of men everywhere. The world was in Ted Valentine’s hands at this very moment. What did he do? He fucking blew it. He got on the horn and started making reservations and ordering expensive gifts. The next day B, told all of her friends. From that moment on February 14th would, forever, be known as the day that all female companions would expect lavish gifts and extraordinary treatment, or else no sex. For a long time. With lots of arguments. No cooking either. Or fun.

So as I’m sure you can see…there is no reason to call this day a holiday. It’s a tragedy. This day only signifies the day the women beat us men. So to all you not so single guys out there, I sincerely hope you have a little blue box with white string, a dozen red roses, 15 pounds of chocolate (ohh but I can’t, chocolate goes straight to my hips) and reservations at Flemings, because otherwise, you are in for a VERY painful reminder of February.

January is the Crappiest Month Ever

Ahh...the new year...a time for rebirth, a new beginning, a chance to set all that went wrong, in the previous year, right, we all try to set our, recently detoured, lives back on the road. This revival of spirit to do what know we should have been doing is reinforced by every other person around us. We all simply make a laundry list of New Years Resolutions. Fortunately, for me, I’ve made it all way the way to February. Let me tell you, the hardest month of the year, for me, is definitely January.

January always sucks for me because everyone is so gung-ho on their ‘New Years Resolutions’ that they end up making my life suck. Fuck that! February rocks because I notice a HUGE decrease in people actively working toward their goals. Ok let me first say that, overall, I really don’t want to see people fail in their goals, unless of course they happen to be a really hot chick and their goal is to have less sex with me this year, then yes, I encourage their failure. However, when other peoples goals get in the way of my attempt to maintain a sane existence in this world of, seemly never ending, annoyances, that’s just not cool, because, ya know, the world revolves around me.

I thought I would take some time out to explain just how much better my life has become since Wednesday, February 01, 2006.

The Goal: Exercise More/Get in Shape

I am all for people who want to get in shape. I believe that we all could stand to trim a few pounds around the waist line. Whether or not it is for a goal or not, I frequent the gym year round. However, starting January 3rd, this year my local gym turned into fucking Disneyland. During January, I would have sweet dreams of the times I could walk up to the front desk, show them my pass, and walk right in. Does this happen in real life, during January? Hell no. You have to wait in a long line just to show to your membership card. Then, God help you, hope they are, “not to full,” and have to wait for someone to leave. When did the gym become a bar? The only thing it was missing was the 300 pound meat head bouncer whose only identifiable quality is the ability to keep people less famous than him out of the gym. Instead all those useless meat heads are inside the gym grunting away as they squeeze out, “just one more rep,” and admire themselves in the mirror. Once you finally get in, good fucking luck getting on any kind of gym equipment. During this time, the lines in the gym are longer than the lines for Space Mountain on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

So, needless to say, I am elated when all these 11 month-out-of-the-year-slackers finally drop their last bead of sweat on January 31st. So to reiterate, it’s not that I don’t want people to work out and get in shape, it’s just, don’t all do it at my gym. Thank you.

*Side note – I didn’t really want to mention this when I first wrote this blog, but I found it so funny at the time, I just couldn’t resist. So I learned the easiest way to NOT achieve your goal of loosing weight, and I thought I would share that with you, because I’m such a nice guy! If you are big fan of cakes, pies, pastries and other delicious dessert type foods, try to keep those influences away from you while at the gym. Let me just give a completely fabricated, 100% untrue, I swear I didn’t see this with my own eyes example…if you happen to be an overweight female working away those thighs on a bike at the gym, do not, I repeat, DO NOT bring Betty Crocker’s dessert issue with you as reading material. Never in my life have I seen…I mean not seen…such an inexplicable act of self torture. I mean come on, when I want to start masturbating less (yeah fucking right) you aren’t going to find me naked in bed with a Big-Uns Magazine in one hand.

**Side note to the side note: Wow…that was a really long side note.


The Goal: Start Drinking Less Coffee/Soda/Caffeine

Ok I’ll admit I am not the biggest fan of coffee or soda. Granted I thoroughly enjoy both, however I just don’t drink them that often. I might drink either one, once a month. (Unless the soda is mixed with alcohol, then it doesn’t count…because I said so…which makes it truth…because I said so) So you might be thinking, “Well then Jimmy, what the hell do you have to complain about if no one is drinking the stuff that you don’t drink anyway?” Well if you would have just calmed down I was about to tell you…now I don’t know that I feel like telling you anymore because you were so impatient…ohh you don’t care anymore? Liar. You care so much. Wait, Don’t leave. Damnit come back...Ok. Ok. Ok. I’ll tell you. Freaking jerk! Anyway, if you have been a regular reader of my blog, you’d know that I know everything, well as of January 3, I learned that I only know, just about everything. The one bad thing about being really really smart is that you stop learning; however, I’ve recently learned that people are incredibly irritable when they stop drinking caffeine.

Nothing is worse than trying to talk to a coffee drinker who didn’t get 9 hours of sleep and hasn’t had their cup of java for the day. They mumble, they don’t process information very quickly and they skulk around like they had just found out their cat was set on fire and is now dead. It’s impossible to get anything accomplished. They say, “I don’t need coffee, I’ll be fine, so long as I make it to lunch, I’ll be good after that.” Ohh…excellent…so you are going to hold me hostage from being productive, until lunch time?!? Perfect. Then what happens? They go out to lunch, and eat way too much and are in a food coma until 4:30. 4:30 rolls around and they realize the work day is almost over, so they mentally check out. “Ohh that thing you needed, yeah I’ll take care of it tomorrow morning.” Ohh ok, thanks…*punch in the face*

In short, I’m glad people are back to the gluttonous helpings of caffeine. It allows me to be more productive and keeps my sanity level steadily at one notch below psychotic.


The Goal: Spend Less Time Doing _____ and More Time Reading

Ahh reading…what a novel concept. (Get it, yup it’s still funny to me to point out my own clever humor) I think it’s great when people spend more time reading, especially if the ______ in the goal is TV. Reading will expand your vocabulary, educate you on proper grammar and maybe, JUST MAYBE, teach ya a thing or two about the world. However, it too has become a nuisance to my life. Now, this time I know what you are thinking, “ohh he’s gonna rant and rave about how all his friends read now and don’t spend as much time hanging out with him. Also, I bet Jimmy has a huge wiener.” Let me affirm for you that I do indeed have a huge wiener but that is neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is that ‘other people reading’ has not become a burden to me because it means they spend less time with me (I mean hey, that’s their loss).

What bothers me is that I have to hear about everything they read. In the middle of a discussion someone will chime in with something that has NOTHING to do with the conversation but they wanted to let you know they are reading, “No that can’t be true. I’m reading this book right now that says…” God Damnit, you are reading a fucking fiction novel, what the hell are talking about real proof that there are UFO’s; we are talking about Hamas getting elected by the Palestinian parliament. Jackass.

Then there is the worst of them all, the person who wants you to know that they are, currently reading a book, and will remind you constantly. OK I get it…you know how to read congratulations. When did reading a book become praiseworthy and why do people think they deserve something because they are reading a book? I’ve read plenty of books and I’m not an A-List Celebrity. Yet.

Lastly, people new to the world of reading, will recommend anything they read to you. It doesn’t matter if the book is meant for men, women, adults or kids. They just read a book and want the rest of the world to know how good this book is, despite, the fact that they have absolutely NOTHING to compare it to. Then remind you a few days down the line that they will still lend you the book because, “You just have to read it.” No thanks, I think I will skip He’s Just Not that into You.

Thank god, people who say they ‘want to read more’ read one book then realize that watching TV is much simpler, and go back to their lazy ways.

I’m incredibly happy that February has come. I can now go back to living the life that I have grown to love, 11 months out of the year.