Hit Rock Bottom, Then Grab a Shovel

As I sit here feeling like absolute shit due to sick customers who won’t stay home when snot is running out of them, I figured I may as well write something.  I should be working on the Money Shot, but instead I’m all fucked up on pain killers and a cheap bottle of wine that I had lying around the house.  Is this the proper cure for the common cold?  No.  Why not buy something real to cure myself?  Well, long story short, I’m broke.  Why am I broke?  The Money Shot, of course!

See that picture?  It’s the floor drain in the shop, but it’s supposed to be a bottomless pit.  Get it?  Symbolism.  Anyways, problem number one: It’s a car.  I don’t drive cars.  My winter beater is a car because I can’t afford a truck, and my summer daily driver is a car because I’m trying to sell it, and I’m hoping someone wants to test drive it and take it home.  Problem number two:  It’s a tri-five GM.  One might think that they’re cheap to build, as they’re ridiculously common and popular, but one might also be wrong.  Demand necessitates supply, and necessity leads to price increases, even gouging.  If everyone wants it, why give it away, right?  Problem number three:  It’s Uninsurable.  People can feed me all the “tri-five GM” and “appraised value” crap they want, but the fact of the matter is no one is going to touch it.  It looks like a race car, so it’s automatically a high risk. Also, it’s a Pontiac, sharing technically no value with the much more desirable Chevrolets of the same era.  Sure, they’ll collect the premiums, but good luck when it comes time to pay the deductible.

So rather than go to the shop tonight, I’m going to sit here mad at SGI, the Canadian Dollar, and all the rich people driving the price of these cars through the roof.  As I do all that, however, I’m also creating a detailed budget list of all the parts I still need to complete the car.  I offered it for sale as a project a couple weeks back, and couldn’t get shit for it.  It might just be the cheap wine and pills talking, but I’m going to finish this green fucker to my own liking.  It’s going to be loud, shiny, and offensive.  Will I fall in love with it, even though it’s a car?  Will I sell it and recover my investment?  Will I ever race the Gonzo Henry J?  Stay tuned, something cool might happen!


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