Apr. 28th, 2010

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Firse off, TY future world-taker-over comics-n-cocktail extraordinaire [livejournal.com profile] zia_narratora for the cut V-gift! I love it! ♥

Second off, I'm sitting here finishing my LJ Idol entry before class. I wonder, does anyone else every have 5 million super ambitious ideas but then end up not having enough time to finish any of them before the deadline? That keeps happening to me. -__-

I mean, I like my story for this week but I totally wanted to do something more than just a story! Oh well! At least I have lotsa ideas for photo essays, craft projects, videos, comics, animations and science experiments now!! XD

EDIT: As soon as I posted this, I heard a scream down the hallway: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!!

0__0 I mean, this is the psych building, but they don't usually have experiments like *that*!

Then a few seconds later, I hear a little kid go, 'You have four eyes!' BWAHAHAH. Somebody is watching David After Dentist in their office apparently. XDDDD
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"What did you do?"

"N-nothing. I just parked it and now it won't go!" I tapped the gas pedal again. The engine rumbled, the little white hand on the RPM gauge pulled up and trembled between a 1000 and 1200, but the little baby-blue Geo Prism just wouldn't budge. With a sigh, my dad rolled down the passenger side window and stuck his arm out the window to open the door (the inside latch was broken when when he bought it, my dad will tell you proudly, and it saved him almost 200 dollars). He unsnapped his cuff buttons and rolled his flannel sleeves up to his elbow. He stood, arms crossed, in front of the car.

"Pop the trunk," He demanded.

"The trunk? But why--"


He furrowed his brow and got to work. Or rather, he got to as much work as he could without a wrench, the car manual, or a single crumb of automotive knowledge. Which, as far as I could tell, involved holding his hands above things to see if they were hot, frowning at the oil dipstick it, and occasionally cursing. See, as awesome as my dad and his IQ-marinated brains are (and that's pretty darn awesome), he knows NOTHING about cars. Ok, maybe that's not fair. He knows how to wash them, park them and drive them. Supposedly, he knew enough to supervise my pre-licensing behind-the-wheel practice hours.

After about ten minutes of looking properly Dadiriffic as he poked around under the hood, he mumbled something about the carburetor being shot (he probably got that from Matlock) and moved to the back bumper. "I'm gonna push. Can you steer?"

"Y-yes." Not wanting to accidentally run over my dad that day, I clutched the gear stick to put it in neutral. "Um...Daddy?"

"What now?"

"The little N...that means neutral, right?"


I clicked the gear stick down one click and tapped the gas again. From N, where it had apparently been for the past half-hour, to D. The car lurched forward. My dad stumbled a little as the back wheels kicked dust from the gravel road. "Nope, I don't think it's the carburetor!" I grinned as dad walked back to the passenger side window, beet red and more than a little grumbly.

After that, my mom finished teaching me to drive and the next time dad mentioned carburetors was in a really epic Scrabble play.

Yep, another one brought to you by [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol!


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