So there Mrs. Tuna was, whipping along the freeway in the super-fast lane, when she heard the little “poink”. A seemingly innocent little sound spelled the end of my fateful steed. As power faded away, I used my Nascar instincts to bolt to slow lane, frantically dialing the Big Tuna of my demise. Literally, choked, curled into the fetal position, and died in less than a mile at the bottom of the off ramp in under 2 minutes.
My truck, with 166, 567 miles, had given up the ghost. Apparently, when your oil pump craps out at 75 MPH it causes your engine to seize in an irreparable way within seconds. With all the expenses of the ASU, Sheldon’s wedding and the Big Tuna’s new business launch we were hoping old Bossy would limp along until spring. It was a spite death; we’d put brand new tires, rotors, brake pads, and spark plugs in only the week before. She could sense her days were numbered until she went to the big trade in lot in the sky. I would have been even more pissed if I’d actually run it through the stupid car wash over the weekend.
My man drove the 20 miles, tow rope and in hand and pulled me to the nearest parking lot. We jumped in his man mobile and dropped my pretty little ass off at Endless Engineering. She looked so sad and abandoned as we drove away. I was only 45 minutes late and still beat Boss 1 and Boss 2 into the hood by 7:20 AM. Its days like this that make you want to inhale an entire desert, so let’s shall we?
Texas Sheet Cake
2 cup sugar
2 cup flour
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup water
2 tablespoon butter
½ cup sour cream
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 tablespoon coco
Place sugar, flour, salt in mixing bowl. Boil water, butter, coco. Pour boiling mixture over dry ingredients. Mix well. Add sour cream, eggs, soda and vanilla. Bake in greased jelly roll pan for 20 to 25 minutes in 375 degrees.
6 tablespoons canned milk
4 tablespoons coco
2 tablespoons butter
1 pound powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup chopped nuts
Mix milk, coco and butter and cook until fluffy. Pour into mixing bowl and beast in sugar, then adding vanilla and nuts. Frost immediately.
I.hate.car.shopping. Even more than my mammogram, which is infinitely more painful when you belong to the itty titty club. I will pause to give you a moment to reflect on the enjoyment of squashed boobs over the horror being held hostage by the lounge lizards of car sales. The first dealership introduced me to Hayseed Hank. He spent the entire time talking to me with a toothpick in his mouth. When the Big Tuna arrived on scene, he completely ignored anything I had to say and began “man to man” bromance bullshit.
If one more of them had said, “my, what a firm handshake you have little lady” I would have beat them with my stiletto. While Sheldon and I test drove options, she got on her smarty pants phone, price compared and found the identical model for $750 less. Bam, done.
In the twilight hours of the delivery, Wyatt, the 12 year technology geek from Ford patiently showed me all the hands free gadgets. He called me madam. Punk, just show me how to turn on the headlights so I don’t have to punch you. I am almost able to rationalize the cost since I cut my gas bill in half in my new little tiny Ford Focus. All I can think now when I hear the tick tock tick tock of the blinker is car loan car loan car loan. Ah well, just remember in the future, the lady in the grey economy car with her blinker on trying to get in your lane may be me, just give me a break. It’s been a rough week. Good week Team Tuna.