1994dec20. Route 66 Fiasco #3.
Editors Note.
You may have noticed that
the productivity level of recent missives has shot up about 300%, although
one would surmise that the rush of the holiday season would put a damper
on this fruitless endeavor. The way we see it, YOU'RE our extended family,
and wed like you to consider this special holiday batch of missives your
gift (what a bunch of cheapies!) for being a good little goober all year
and/or not/worshipping the icon of your choice. I promise you that we will
drop back down to our weak and weary weekly missive shot come the new year.
Also, I would like to send out a call for help concerning my two-day case
of the hiccups. Ive tried the gag thing, the water thing, the lack-of-air
thing, and the have-someone-scream-the-name-of-the-platonic-woman-friend-
that-you-had-the-hots-for-but-then-she-became-a-born-again-Christian-suddenly-
at-you thing, but nothing seems to work. The latter one worked once, but
now, every time I get the hiccups, I immediately think of her. Cursed, I
am. Errr, WE are. [memo to ourselves: that WE joke is getting really stale]
Blue/Red
Light Special.
We took the X Mag Staff Car out for a quick spin to test
the new tires and its general road-worthiness for our X Mag Staff Car raffle
winner, Mr. DOC of SKITTLES, ARIZONA (Doc sends along a mini-update: The
Santa suit fits nicely). It passed the road test (much better than early
in July, when part of one of the tires inexplicably got caught in the front-right
quarter-panel. Dont ask), and it also passed the cop-magnet test. Dovetailing
behind us quite handily, a Plymouth police officer pulled us over trying
to get on I-275, a mere two minutes after starting the car (a new record!).
Kind of cold to be driving a convertible this time of year, isnt it?
I'll spare you the emotionally-gripping transcript; as it turns out, the
license plate had dropped down again (see X8). The driver of our chase car
is convinced that this officer also participated in the humorous four-cop-car-starters-pistol-excuse
melee, of which I offer a small transcript dollop:
OFFICER (upon seeing the Fisher-Price fun jet on the hood, and a painting of the same jet in flames on the trunk): Are you a pilot?"After being pulled over last night, I wasnt sure which was stupider: riding in a convertible (actually, a car with the roof cut off) in the dead of winter, being pulled over, or the fact that the officer let us go ... Come on, Jake! Lets do those crimes ...
ALL NON-UNIFORMED PERSONNEL IN IMMEDIATE AREA (flooding their respective bodies with Maximum Laughter Suppression endorphins): mmm
DRIVER: No sir. Theyre toys.
Ha ha fun-e ending
story.
Our supposed future internet provider refused our application,
saying x was too short of a login name. After reminding them that one-character
login names in unix are perfectly acceptable, the humble tech on the other
end of line provided unasked-for advice: Maybe you could make it e-x
... or s-e-x (guffaws). Im already enjoying the amazing professionalism
of these people.
[Coming up next week: Sniff ... sniff ... whats that smell? Its the exciting action adventures of LIBEL HOUND!]