C'mon, Jim.  It's only another $85."

"Oh no-no-no-no-no."

They'll deliver it.  And they'll install it."

"I have the tools.  I have the talent."

...They'll haul the old one off."

"You're doubting me, aren't you?"

And they said they can come tomorrow...."

"This is my manhood at stake here.  I can do this.  I will do this.  I've spent many an weekend doin' nothin' but sittin' in front of the tube, surfin' through Home Improvement shows.  I've seen plenty of episodes where they-...Whoa, did you say tomorrow?  Oh, not TOMORROW.  The race is tomorrow.  We're cartin' one of these bad boys home TODAY!  And I'm installin' it all by my do-it-your-self....Not tomorrow but how 'bout Monday.  No, Tuesday....Maybe next weekend."

Honey, I've watched Bob Vila.  I've taped Bob Vila.  Bob Vila was favorite of mine....Jim, you are no Bob Vila."

"Go pull the Jeep up to the loadin' zone. Lloyd."


Okay wait.  I'm not even followin' this.  Let me go back to the beginning.

First...There were volcanoes and molten lava and tarpits and one giant continent called Pancreas, or somethin' like that.  As gases formed, the atmospheric pressure at sea level made it possible to-........Well, then some other stuff.  (Let's skip ahead.)

Second....I've Turbo-Taxed my way into another Marc Rich-ian refund (Oops, is that braggin'?  Pardon me.) Just got the direct deposit de day before yesterday.  And while I spent my Saturday mornin' perusin' the Thrifty Nickel for El Caminos, Asunta danced around the casa with dollar signs cha-chingin' in her eyes.  I knew this would happen.  I should never have let her see the 1040.  Sure enough, lacking my pragmatic sensibilities, 'Daffy Duck' grabbed pen and paper and started goin' room to room, makin' a list.  THE list.  Things that we hadn't even finished discussing....As far as I was concerned.

Dishwasher....Ha!  Typical.  How much are they?  Isn't there some kinda luxury tax on those?  Do we really, and I mean reeeally need one?


We really need one.  Apparently the motor burnt up 4 months ago.  And worse, I never knew....."OUCH!...OUCH!"

But she let me pick the store.  So it was off to Lowe's we went.  (....Boo, Tony Stewart. Boo.)  Ahh! I love the smell of the home-improvement in the morning.  Except of course that fertilizer aisle.  Pee-whew.  But the rest of the store reeks of testosterone; WD-40 and PVC and freshly hewn pine.  Makes ya feel handymanny.....Excuse me, Handypersonic......No, damnit!  Handymanny.  Smell it?  Sniff-sniiifff.  Manly stuff.....Uck!  I still smell that fertilizer.

Ultra Quiet One or the Whisper Wash 200?.....Too complicated for me.  I let her choose.  She picked the-...white one.  But when she started talkin' to our fine, aproned associate about delivery and installation, I had to put my imitation Red-Winged foot down.  $85, versus my exaggerated masculine pride.  I....am a man......Sniiiiifffff!......

Uck!.  I still smell it.


im, do you really have to wear that tool belt?  Look, ya got more tools spread all over the floor than ya do in those pockets.  And for God's sake, pull the back of your pants up."

She obviously doesn't get it.  The 'Schneider' is my loin cloth.  My holster.  An Arthurian scabbard of virility, for my extra-caliber do-it-yourselfishness. (.....I own that, in case your were...ever...gonna repeat it.)   My toolbelt turns me from a meek, mild mannered intendent, into a Super one.  It gives me the zen that I need be "one with the chore".  It's my thinkin' cap, only it's not so close to my brain. (.....Don't say it!!!)

"Yes, I hafta wear the 'Schneid.'  And when I'm done, don't be surprised to see me standing atop this 7-cycle beast, thumping my chest and yodeling somethin' Tarzantuan."

You think you can get it installed by tonight?"

"No Problemo"

Where are they racin' Sunday?"

"Las Vegas."

Really?....You a bettin' man, Jim?"

"Hmmm?  Why yes I am, Mrs. Bond."

You get it installed by race time, I'll give you $85.  You lose, and you have to finish it during the race....And I get all your El Camino diecasts."

"You, ma'am, are in my light."

....Sniiiiffff!......Uck.  Can you smell that?.


Took me a few hours but I wrestled her in there.  Even got to use some of those little 'lectrical spinner top wire connectin' doo-dads.  And a wrench that I don't even know the name of.  All the gizmos and machismo.....Make ya do strange things.  I don't remember all of it but at one point, accordin' to Asunta, I'd glued plaid remnants onto the Schneider and was wearing only that, and some blue and white make up, while shoutin' Celtic gibberish from the countertop.

But here it is Sunday mornin', and I guess she's not plannin' on payin' up till race time....And I'm needin' me a few bucks to get some munchies for the race.  Sooo, any of ya'll race fans feelin' lucky?  This is Vegas, ya know.  Who'll gimme odds?  C'mon, it's not like I can fix a race.

....Sniiiffff!.....Bring it on.

Stacy...Speakin' of handywork, Jeff Gordon's crew chief got fined for some of his.  Cheatin' the wind with a car that was too short last weekend.  Cheatin' the odds by keepin' his 3rd place finish....Cheatin'. 9th

Paul Parker, Jr......Junior will win.....Because everyone will let him.......Everyone. 

Mollie...Ron Hornaday took some heat for nailin' Jr. last week.  Just let him on by, Ron.  Sure AJ's gonna kill ya, but I'd rather face him than the couple hundred AJ Bubba's outside.  17th

Doc & Jeff....Tony Stewart is pissed with the media.  Again.  Cause the media hates him.  Again.....(Saw the piece.  They really did screw him.)  4th.

Dave....And let's not even talk about the shit Sterling Marlin's been through.  Fast here today. And bein' quickest in a sea of cars lettin' only Junior by, is gonna make for an exciting finish.  2nd.

Built that one from scratch, Foster.  Find it, and I'll give you my home phone number.  We can talk about El Caminos. 

Kim & Paul....I'm not gonna say Mark Martin was fast, but as I was calculatin' his practice numbers, combined with his record at this track....Well, I was right.  To not say it. 11th

Tony.....Rusty Wallace is leading in points.  Rusty Wallace is leading in points.  With all the grace becoming of we alpha male types, may I join Tony in an impromptu "Nanner nanner naaaaaannnner!"

Lori....Wasn't gonna group ya into the alpha-male thing.  Is there one of those greek letter things for women?.....What does bein' a Tri-Delt mean?  Rusty Kappa 6th.

Pam....Matt Kenseth is too Busched to race on Sundays.  Take a break Matt.  Saturdays are for restin'.  Relaxin'.  Car shoppin'.  Major appliance installatin'...10th

Ted...Steve Park racked up win number two for the Dale Earnhardt team last week.  But suh......low here.  You could clock him with a Parkin' meter.  A Parkin' meter! (......I own that one too.  Sniiifffff!...But you can have it.)  21st.

Michael Waltrip.....13th today.  But that's not important.  What's important is that Michael won Daytona.  Michael won Daytona.  Did I not tell you?  Not once, but twice.  Can ya hear me over the chest thumpin'?  TWICE.....Where's that kilt I made?


Ah!.  There she goes again.  This has gotta be the fifth or sixth time she's run the thing since these rachet- grippers knuckled it into place.  Bet she's washin' one dish at a time.  Can't get over the newness.  That's kinda cute....Wait, is she takin' a bath?  Is there a sprinkler turned on outside?  What's that whooshin' sound?  Who's in the kitchen?  Where's all this water comin' from?....Snniiiiffff!.....Uck.

Tell me what happens.
UAW Daimler/Chrysler 400
Vila Las Vegas....
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