I'm having BMW problems this morning. Not terrible problems but problems nonetheless. This means that I should be taken out to the back yard, slathered with molasses, and staked to a red ant hill. I'm going with "molasses" and not the more popular "honey" because "molasses" is a funnier sounding word. It's not a funnier sweetener, necessarily, but it does sound goofier. And I went with the very popular "red" ants because they sound more venomous than your run-of-the-mill "black ants," which may very well have a horrible, horrible bite for all I know.
I did make a few phone calls to a few trusted friends to talk about these terrible, terrible problems. I made sure to call some guys that I abuse on a regular basis because I want to make sure that every now and then I lob up a big, fat softball that they can whack out of the park. I had to leave messages - a good thing as well because it allows them to prepare some cruel, cruel repartee when they call back - IF they call back, no certainty given all of the abuse I've heaped upon their heads over the years.
I dish it out so I better be able to take it.
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