I somehow thought that when I moved here that frost heaves and broken pavement joins would be a thing of the past. Warm weather would mean smooth driving.
I am a damn fool.
New Orleans is second only to Boston for sheer lack of road quality. There are many factors for this, including the citys reluctance to properly maintain any bit of public transportation (unless if its an election year, natch) but the root cause is the fact that this city is built on sinking swampland. Swampland that refuses to sink evenly. There could be roads somewhere that could withstand such stress, roads conceived by evil dictators and mad scientists and created from elements with high atomic weights and impressive names like seaborgium and ununnilium, but we cannot get roads like that here. Maybe a streetcar line but no roads.
Coming out of work today I noticed that an old, balding tire on my car had lost air and this can be scary as potholes here jump out from behind trees and eat rims for lunch. Having had to drive a car with damaged rims once I resolved to air up the tire as fast as possible.
I had no cash on me and besides, air is free, right?, I visited the closest gas station with a free air pump. (Live in this city long enough and you will memorize where each and every free pump is. Or at least that the Shell corporation has a free air policy, presumably to make up for their lack of a clean air policy.) I could not air up my tire there. The rubber hose attached to the pump, judging from sight and smell, had been attacked by bears, at least four. I moved on to the next gas station, hoping that the marauding bears had been captured before they could strike again.
There the hose was also leaky but I did not discover this until I had lost another 5 PSI from my tire. I cursed and drove slowly to the next station. Where the pump was simply missing. I would joke about a sly and stealthy cabal of pump vandals but I cant because I secretly believe that to be the case. Fucking pump vandals fronting on my posse.
Two more gas stations later and I was beginning to get frustrated.
It quickly became apparent that I was no longer in New Orleans but was driving around in a cunningly contrived simulacrum in the depths of Gehenna. The Ninth Traffic Circle of Hell, if you will. I would be doomed to spend all of eternity paying for my sins by driving around at 20 miles an hour searching madly for a working air pump and every time I would find one some demon would come up and savage it right before my eyes, piercing the hose with a devilish pitchfork mere milliseconds before I could begin airing the sad slumping tire up. I was for a short time utterly convinced this was the case and this is why you may have seen me anointing various air pumps with holy water and other such Christian wards. Which didnt work. God is a liar, a liar and a thief.
Eventually the spell passed and I found a fully operable, mostly unmolested pump, bravely sitting lit and pretty in plain sight of the raging hordes that would doubtless heap abuse upon it later. The tire was refilled and the quest was completed.
However, the priests are still pissed about all that holy water that I stole.
Triff! I am back on the air for a short time and will be laying phat grooves (or some approximation thereof) at the local college radio station. And during Friday rush hour, no less. Of course I am simply subbing for the regular DJ this one time but its been a good five months since I last broadcast and I miss it. The fact that I am ditching work to go on the air makes my toes tingle with ecstasy. Even better is the fact that I am ditching work to break FCC federal regulations.
For the ladies, or the men as the case may be : someone is now manufacturing tools to help you scratch those hard-to-reach places. Jump to http://www.zoofur.com/animalp.html and inspect the dildos under the heading of 'unusual penis shapes'. Please use these in good health, ladies and gentlemen.
I am a damn fool.
New Orleans is second only to Boston for sheer lack of road quality. There are many factors for this, including the citys reluctance to properly maintain any bit of public transportation (unless if its an election year, natch) but the root cause is the fact that this city is built on sinking swampland. Swampland that refuses to sink evenly. There could be roads somewhere that could withstand such stress, roads conceived by evil dictators and mad scientists and created from elements with high atomic weights and impressive names like seaborgium and ununnilium, but we cannot get roads like that here. Maybe a streetcar line but no roads.
Coming out of work today I noticed that an old, balding tire on my car had lost air and this can be scary as potholes here jump out from behind trees and eat rims for lunch. Having had to drive a car with damaged rims once I resolved to air up the tire as fast as possible.
I had no cash on me and besides, air is free, right?, I visited the closest gas station with a free air pump. (Live in this city long enough and you will memorize where each and every free pump is. Or at least that the Shell corporation has a free air policy, presumably to make up for their lack of a clean air policy.) I could not air up my tire there. The rubber hose attached to the pump, judging from sight and smell, had been attacked by bears, at least four. I moved on to the next gas station, hoping that the marauding bears had been captured before they could strike again.
There the hose was also leaky but I did not discover this until I had lost another 5 PSI from my tire. I cursed and drove slowly to the next station. Where the pump was simply missing. I would joke about a sly and stealthy cabal of pump vandals but I cant because I secretly believe that to be the case. Fucking pump vandals fronting on my posse.
Two more gas stations later and I was beginning to get frustrated.
It quickly became apparent that I was no longer in New Orleans but was driving around in a cunningly contrived simulacrum in the depths of Gehenna. The Ninth Traffic Circle of Hell, if you will. I would be doomed to spend all of eternity paying for my sins by driving around at 20 miles an hour searching madly for a working air pump and every time I would find one some demon would come up and savage it right before my eyes, piercing the hose with a devilish pitchfork mere milliseconds before I could begin airing the sad slumping tire up. I was for a short time utterly convinced this was the case and this is why you may have seen me anointing various air pumps with holy water and other such Christian wards. Which didnt work. God is a liar, a liar and a thief.
Eventually the spell passed and I found a fully operable, mostly unmolested pump, bravely sitting lit and pretty in plain sight of the raging hordes that would doubtless heap abuse upon it later. The tire was refilled and the quest was completed.
However, the priests are still pissed about all that holy water that I stole.
Triff! I am back on the air for a short time and will be laying phat grooves (or some approximation thereof) at the local college radio station. And during Friday rush hour, no less. Of course I am simply subbing for the regular DJ this one time but its been a good five months since I last broadcast and I miss it. The fact that I am ditching work to go on the air makes my toes tingle with ecstasy. Even better is the fact that I am ditching work to break FCC federal regulations.
For the ladies, or the men as the case may be : someone is now manufacturing tools to help you scratch those hard-to-reach places. Jump to http://www.zoofur.com/animalp.html and inspect the dildos under the heading of 'unusual penis shapes'. Please use these in good health, ladies and gentlemen.