At least I didn't blow up

I decided to stop taking crap from my motorcycle. So today I drug it out of its secure location and propped it up in the garage. I am a human being. It is a piece of machinery. And darn it, I'm smarter than it is. I encircled it with wrenches, screwdrivers, and sockets so that it could not escape. I tore the entire e-stinken thing apart to get to that pesky leaking carburetor one more time. And when I got there I cleaned the living daylights out of it. Then I began putting it back together.

I dropped a screw. As screws go this was a rather important one. It is one of four that hold the carburetor together. Gotta have it. Unfortunately it fell somewhere down into the guts of the machine and hid among things that, as far as I know, have no name. This was not acceptable. I pulled the bike to the right, almost laying it on its side. The screw didn't slide out of its snare onto the floor. I pulled the bike to the left. Nothing.



There was only one thing to do. I removed another screw that does the same thing that the missing screw does. Then I climbed into my very hot (and still running) Mustang for a quick run to an auto parts store and a replacement screw. As I backed out of the driveway I heard a crunch but thought little of it. Probably just one of those sweet gum balls that fall out of my tree every 3.6 seconds. I went and bought my screw. It cost me forty-six cents, tax included. When I got back home I found a very expensive and very smashed screwdriver in my driveway. My crunch was not a sweet gum ball. It was a ratchet screwdriver. It sells for something around thirty dollars.

And I destroyed it for a forty-six cent screw.

I spit on it and let it lie there and suffer.

In about half an hour the bike was done, reassembled and ready for its test run. And guess what!

It leaks worse than ever.

And I don't have a ratchet screwdriver anymore. And I hate my motorcycle. And I hate tools. And I hate my high school shop teacher who is probably dead by now anyway. This is all his fault.

I'm going to sit my fat butt on my mega-chair and watch cartoons and remember the days when tools were foreign objects to me. Like ... today.