Why is everything David seems to own and deem worthy of moving made of metal and heavy and cold and pinchy? Why are we having to load all this cold, pinchy, heavy crap into boxes or crannies of cars when he had literal months to pack some of this shit away, before we had to do it all in the dark and snow? Why is he like this? This jackass better fucking be happy my love is powerful and pure and boundless because this suuuuuuuuccccckkkkkssss.
See that picture up there? That’s David’s garage. See how much is packed up? The number you’re looking for is called, technically, “fuck all.” As in none. This man that I’m in business with, that I’ve tied to my literal financial future, is a monster. Plus, I learned that he eats in the shower. Who does that? Spaghetti! He fucking eats fucking spaghetti in the shower! Who is this animal?
On the plus side, major shout out to this little electric winch that says it can pull 2,000 pounds but more than doubled that rating when it slowly, slowly inched 4,300 plus pounds of inert Golden Eagle up onto the tow dolly.
Otto is being a great sport about all of this and, while not technically helping, is keeping things fun. Plus, he got to visit the backrooms:
We’re now getting back on the road, hoping to hit Joplin, Missouri tonight! Who’s in the area and wants to hear me kvetch?
UPDATE: Readers, go meet the boys!
-Talking about cars
-Talking about rust
A fun time will be had by all, guaranteed!
— The Autopian (@the_autopian) December 27, 2022