Van is useless once again. It sits. In my driveway. leaking something or other. I find it fishy that I didn't have to pay for the new computer they installed or the new fuel valve or the month's worth of labor. I mean, if they were doing an honest job, they'd deserve honest pay. Right? The BBB called them once but got no response. Geez, Friday, when I thought we were all fixed, I was ready to take the report down and claim satisfaction let's move on. Thank goodness my email wasn't working or I would have. So, tomorrow I'll call Ned to hear his disbelief, and let him decide what's next: either fix it or give me my money back. It's just rotten. Cars aren't something people take for granted. No. We pay a lot for them each month. And I should try to get that much out of Ned for the month--going on two months--he had my car.

Unfortunately, if I have to resort to the dealership fixing it I may have to mingle with the tat2pimp again, the guy who sold me the car ... with the nickname branded on his knuckles, though concealed with tape. He also explained the picture of the two little girls on his desk: he had impregnated sisters in the same month. Yeah. The Sandusky police called to question me about my car being involved in a drug bust. Seems the tat2pimp sold my trade-in with its registration. And finally, I'll never forget the warm welcome the service guy gave me when, after I had just had Dallas, he asked me when the baby was due. Gotta love that. I'll continue the exciting saga as new events unfold.