I hate my car!

"I hate it! I hate it! I HATE IT!

Stupid fucking cadillac. Stupid fucking malfunctioning transmission. Stupid fucking stuck transmission crossmember keeping me from getting stupid fucking malfunctioning transmission out so I can install junkyard transmission of unknown functionality. Stupid fucking hands that cramp up painfully every time I try and access the stupid fucking transmission mount bolts.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

*sigh* Now that I've finished my sandwich I get to go take a pile of ibuprophen and go fight with it again. If Velvet shows up around 5 like he said he might I get to try my idea for getting transmission out around said stupid fuckin crossmember. May work, or it may snap the tailshaft off the old transmission, damage the stupid fucking crossmember, dent/tear the floor pan and maybe even cause more damage. Fucking lovely..."

Feh.

"Car is re-assembled with old transmission still in it. AM going to end up having someone change it for me as I had no luck doing it myself.
Right now I am grungy as heel and still peeved (but slightly less so, Velvet is an amusing friend who always managed to perk up my mood). What I really want to do is to get the hell out of this house for the evening, but with how nasty I am I really ought to shower and change before showing myself in public.
Though I do admit a certain urge to take my grungy, nasty, unshaven, grease & dirt covered self and ride my new bicycle (classic '50s style cruiser bike) over to the tea house down the street and sit there sipping tea and reading something excessively pretentious."