Boredom.... It's the ******... and the mother of all adventures..

If you can't suffer foolishness, you may want to stop reading right about now.

6 pm, Saturday.. I have a date with a chick somebody set me up with.. I've never laid eyes on her, but I'm told she's 'real nice'... She's real nice alright, to fabric companies, or to used parachute surplus shops where she finds suitable covering for her sizable self.. damn.. I've suddenly got new plans that should begin - around 8 ish? But in fairness, she is 'real nice'..

I'm on my *** in front of the game(s) by 8:30 p.m., and I keep thinking about that seafoam in the toolbox, and that wizzbang of a tiny funnel that's going to help me get it into the booster line with minimal effort.. I sign a promissory note to myself.. "self" I say, "when the traffic out there dies down, and folks in the neighborhood are asleep, I'm going to smoke the hell out of the joint"..

It's now 2:30 a.m., and all is quiet except for the drunks using my neighborhood for a back road, and in attempt to evade the watchful eyes of the pastry munchers.. And, me being the sport I am, I figured a little smoke screen would further benefit their cause.. I break out the funnel and the tin of seafoam.. I've got a ping or two I want to ward off with the spell that stuff can supposedly cast..

Open the hood, fish the booster hose off the booster, shove the long funnel with the little spout and nifty hanger in the hose, dangle that rascal off my hood- check..

Open the seafoam with a screwdriver, opening only a slot so as not to be possible to pour too much at once- check..

Start unsuspecting truck- check..

check on curious dogs, making certain they can't escape the house and join in on the fun- check..

I start a pourin..

It starts a smokin...

Something brushes by my leg, and I carelessly look down, expecting to see a dog and at the same time recall that I DID secure the door, effectively incarcerating the pooches and shift seamlessly to "must be the neighbors cat", which quickly evaporates as I'm looking through thickening smoke in my not so well ventilated carport at a set of long, clean, white teeth below two perky ears.. yes, that was a run on sentence but that's exactly as it occurred, and in about a tenth the time it took you to read it..

After realizing I'm about to **** my pants, and wondering exactly what I'm looking at, I may have lost temporary grip on the tin of rid-a-ping, and it lodged itself (via pretty stout vacuum) into the throat of the funnel... The engine died, and it died quick enough that I clearly heard that fox squeal like a squeaky chew toy the dogs often maul- it vanished into the smoke like something from a effin horror movie... So much so, in fact, that I instantly assessed the humor of the situation and stated giggling..

I 'unplug' my tin of fun-smoke from the funnel, and set it on the battery, and reach through the drivers window to restart the truck, which it does (although she coughs a little) and I resume poring in the stuff. The smoke has cleared some, and as I pour I keep a careful eye out for a certain fox I'm certain (for some reason) isn't done with me quite yet.. From my peripheral, several times, I see movement through the dark and smoke that is too uniform and quick to be the smoke itself.. I think I'm being stalked..

I finish the tin, and walk over to the trash bin about ten feet away and dispose of it.. I walk to the drivers window again, reach in, and kill the engine.. I look at the clock on the radio for reference in that brief second before the engine dies. I've got time for a sandwich and the better part of a beer while the seafoam does whatever seafoam does in an engine while folks eat sandwiches and drink beer.. It's not a scientific process, well, at least my end of the bargain isn't scientific..

I turn to walk to the door.. Below and a little in front and to the left, I see teeth.. Clean white, long, and this time angrier teeth, and below two perky ears... This is a persistent little cuss, but I ain't sharing my beer with it- I drop back to punt.. I miss it cleanly and it escapes into the smoke, which is curling into funny patterns as the turbulants created by my misfired foot drift through it.

The next few minutes are mundane, as I create a bologna cheese sandwich and pop a Coors.. I consider grabbing a pistol to show off to my new buddy, but it occurs to me that I'm trying to help the neighborhood drunks safely navigate home- NOT trying to attract ninjas in blue behind badges, who would no doubt be really on edge by all the smoke, gunfire, and a dude holding a pistol, sandwich, beer and kicking at nothing.. I reconsider and just decide to take my chances Mr. Pointy ears has vacated the premises..

After consumption, I start outside.. I peer through the storm door for a brief moment before pushing it open to enter the night again- and damn- that effin fox is sniffing around the area I was standing whilst I was pouring in that there magic potion.. WTF is wrong with that critter?

I consider reconsidering, and start for the closest pistol- and in turning back into the house, almost stumble over one of my two dogs.. and then it hits me!! That biyatch has her rabies shot, (and it may be that my new friend is afflicted) - I'll just allow her to lead the way out the door, and let her tear that critter a new one!!

Do you guys have any clue how fast a fox is? I wasn't prepared to make such a discovery, and the second discovery in as many seconds is that I wish I hadn't opened that beer.. Because now, I gotta drive around the neighborhood in a truck that's smoking like a Hollywood fog machine, and track down my dog.. She's not very well liked by some of the neighbors, and leaving her out there may be sentencing her to the pound.. (again)..

4:00 a.m.... I roll back into the driveway with a panting (but happy) dog, and a truck with a CEL.. She's actually a little too happy.. I'm wondering at this point if rabies can be transmitted sexually.. Effin' ****..

4:10 a.m.. I've inspected the dog, and either 'it' didn't happen, or either her or the fox were clever enough to clean up the mess.. I'm heading back out to the truck to figure that CEL.. I do the key dance and find it's a P0308.. I just reached over to the glove box and grab the SCT.. A few seconds later I've got a nice fresh 91 tune installed, and no CEL.. but I gotta be sure- so I turn the key and hit reverse.. I'm not much worried about the fox anymore because that putz is somewhere smoking a cigarette most likely..

I find a nice open stretch of road where there aren't any cars to be expected.. and I work the ol' girl over..

Tunes are a funny thing that I would love to have explained to me at some point.. Sometimes, when they are installed, they seem to have better results than others- as in, they have instant improved performance.. This was one of those times..

She runs smoother I'm thinking.. I'm thinking that P0308 is a result of the can of seafoam lodging itself in the funnel and consequently choking the engine out.. It went through my head that such a blockage could possibly tug at and weak spots in my plenum gasket and blow that damn thing all over again- but it sure didn't act like it..

I think I like this seafoam stuff... I'm thinking I'm going to do it in the daylight next time though, when nocturnal creatures are sleeping... Damn the neighbors and the fire department.. If seafoaming in the day raises alarm to the point someone asks, I'll just direct them here to read this... and they will see why I'm not waiting for everyone to be asleep anymore.. dang it..

and I'm sure my dog will appreciate it..

interesting eve, huh? I think I'll catch some sleep now.. out..

 

LOL did you consider it might have been paracute gal, in her alter ego? I mean we are in the time of full moon, if there are tales of warewolf's why not ware foxes. Maby thats why she is a nice girl, maby thats why she needs blind dates. ROFL.

 

Good Story man! You write very well. Thanks for the giggle this morning.

 

damn this is pretty funny, and at least you got the seafoam done

 

How many beers did you have? I've heard of pink elephants before(maybe the blind date girl,LOL) Maybe this was just a dream after passing out. They say dreams have a meaning. So maybe you just wanted to get laid by a nice looking girl (fox) and have her Seafoam the intake for you(can stuck in funnel) , while you had a bite to eat. LOL JK. Great story man.

 

A++++ story, would read again!! When I saw the giant wall-o-text I sighed a bit, but after I started reading, I loled




But lets be honest. You did the fat chick and dreamed up this elaborate story as a defense mechanism for your shame, didn't you???

 

The key word here is "dream".

 

well, my head hurts and my mouth is dry and it's too dang early.. Maybe I should have stayed in bed.. but after reading my post above I thought I'd share three more things...

1- If you noticed, I didn't account for my behavior between roughly 2030 and 0230... there may have been some 'refreshments' consumed in 12oz increments..

2- There is absolutely a fox.. and that little turd is quite a nuisance.. he lives in the thicket behind my house, and he is a little too bold- I'm thinkin' he's lost most of his concern about humans, or he may seriously be rabid.. this wasn't my first run-in with him.. back in the summer I had just got out of the pool and went to see what the dogs were screaming about at the front door, and there he sat watching me watch him.. I walked right up to him, and he only ran when I got within about ten feet maybe.. It seems he's been getting bolder since..

3- I may have exaggerated...... a little.... not that i will tell you where, but just that I did....

 

LOL, Go back to bed! I think you are ok with the Fox though. It's just used to human interaction some what. It ran away, which is good. Or should I say the taxi picked her up when you finally woke up?

 

Are we feeling a bit Freudian today??