Stupidity Reigns Supreme

I have nothing good to say about today.

My car broke down and the reason for it's infirmity is so outrageous that I am too embarrassed to tell you what happened.

Me, who just admitted to a Pooh tattoo and perpetual morning diahrrea. Me, who confesses ugly hangovers and french-kissing other girls on a dare. Who loves flamingos and Dirty Dancing, wears tiara's on occasion and...

Huh. There is one thing that happened last winter that I think just may be my most embarrassing moment yet that I conveniently didn't tell you. Maybe later, if you're good.

So. The car. It's sitting in the lot at my office. It must be towed to the shop where they will surely want mucho dinero to fix it. It's a 12 year old Volvo, with almost 99,800 miles on it, and not worth a whole lot, but it was to be Dillon's car. Now we are faced with the decision: to fix or not to fix.

We SO didn't need this right now.