My truck is dead. Called up the place this morning, and although they haven’t checked all four yet, cylinder #1 has low compression. You know what that means? That means $. Lots of $. So, probably going to cancel the insurance tomorrow morning and start shopping for a new(er) vehicle. Motorcycle is not out of the question, but it *is* impractical. Anybody know where I can pick up a Jeep for cheap? Also, cell phone is on the fritz while T-Mobile gets itself organized. It’ll be the same number — for at least one year: under contract! Tore is going to the Denver Lindy Exchange (DLX) this weekend, so he’ll be in town. Alone. Although I’d like to harp on this “alone” factor, I will not. I’ll leave it to him to sob like a little baby for being, as like every other male with a hangup on a particular girl, a little moth, attracted to the oh-so-light-and-pretty flame that will eventually melt his eyes out and tear his palpitating heart from his chest and run it through a meat grinder, resulting in him turning into a broken wreck, a mere husk of what he was. Or not. Up to him. [b]Update[/b] – You know, it’s kind of sad, but I almost miss Burnz. He’s the hugest asshole I know, and he is filled with such hate and spite that his commentary is inevitably hilarious. I feel sorry for those people who spend any amount of time with him. Almost miss him. Not quite. Also, do not go outside without a hat and gloves. Coat optional. It’s freaking cold.