The landlord was called immediately upon my finding the nasty tub situation, and he arrived around 11:30AM. The tub was fixed around 7PM last night. Argh! I sat at home all day, but it's not like I can go anywhere anyway, and I actually had shit that needed to be done. Oh well, I'm up early today (obviously) so I can get shit done. Jesus, I'm rambling aren't I?
I watch the Barrett-Jackson auction last night; were most of the bidders fucking drunk? A 57 Bel Air went for over $100K! I repeat, were most of the bidders fucking drunk?! I did notice most of the asshats had their cell phones glued to their fucking heads the whole time they were bidding. What, they have to be told how much to bid and what to bid on? Whatever happened to personal choice and personal expression? If I'm paying $100K for a car, no one is telling me what to buy!
Holy hot fuck, I'm up early enough to watch MST3K!
On a more interesting note, some guy from the UK wants to buy my GTI. He offered to send me a cashier's check for $5,000, but I kindly explained to him that I cannot accept any form of payment from him other than a direct wire transfer. Apparently that's pissed him off as I haven't heard anything from him for a day or so. Oh well, the car (97 Golf GL) I was going to buy to replace my GTI (as if that could really happen anyway) has been sold. People are strange, and they usually wind up bothering me! Once I get plug wires for my GTI he'll be good as new (except for the leaking tranny seal, bad struts and bad master cylinder).
It's cold and I hate it.