Hubby took his car in to have some nails removed from a tire.

"Oh, we can't do that. Too close to the side. Oh, and by the way, you need two new tie rods and a new set of tires."

Yeah, right. My husband drives like a fricking maniac. Not.
Just give me the car back, asshole. You can make up your bottom line on some other yahoo.

On top of that, I'm dealing with a very chronic health problem. No details. Don't ask. Driving me fucking insane. Hopefully, appointment next week will yield answers.

Teenager is working on his POS freebie truck from his uncle. Can't get paperwork done until uncle sends title, otherwise it is driveable. He's pestering the shit out of me. No one wants this thing street legal more than me. It will really save me from hauling my ass out of bed at 6 in the morning to get him to band practice. Me? Cranky? Pshaw!

Just needed to vent.

We now return to your cheerful persona.

A little validation goes a long way.

Sorry they got your loot.

Me, I prefer Bacardi frozen Fuzzy Navel mix. Throw it in the blender with some rum (Bacardi or otherwise). Good every time.

Of course, my all-time favorite beverage is the white russian. Me and the Big Lebowski can't be wrong.