About a week ago I noticed that the old taxi was beginning to stall out. The guy I lease it from agreed that it was rapidly turning into a "Rolls Nardly" (Rolls down one hill n' hardly makes it up the next) amd said he would be replacing it the day after Labor Day.
However, when it came time to register the title in Virginia it turned out that there was a discrepancy in the dealer re-assignments. The dealer has to take the title back to Pennsylvania to remedy the flaws, and the vehicle won't be able to be titled in Virginia until Monday of next week. Even then, it'll take a whole 'nother day to swap out all the damned modern scientific technology (the meter, dispatch system and the credit card processor and security cameras) from the old cab to the new one. Then yet another day to get the damn thing past the Hack Inspector.
We were going to operate the old taxi right up to the day after Labor Day, but the fucker got to where it would choke up and edge up hills at about two feet per second. We had to cease operations last Sunday afternoon. Luckily I am pretty well fixed up for food and such, there's a half a case of Sierra Nevada Pale in the fridge and I laid in a supply of ramen noodle soup and French bread (it makes for good crouton even when stale) enough to last me a few days.
Ye Idylle Foole however is Ye Deville's Toole, and so I have busied myself with finishing the writing of the first "Prequel" to my yet-to-be-famous novel "The Peterson Investigation". (The new novel, "Georgetown in Plainclothes" covers "The Peterson Investigation"'s main character Detective J.P. Waterman in March of 1977 as he takes on his first assignment in the Detective Bureau of the Metropolitan Police and immediately catches a case which begins as a simple traffic stop and mushrooms into a massive investigation involving narcotics, forged IDs, a robbery team, an orgy club of overpriveleged high school students, and a dead 15-year-old girl. If you read this E-rag often then you wil be the first to know when I have uploaded it to Kindle.
Also in the meantime I have this evening done as is my sometimes wont and checked to see how far down you have to scroll the Google results of a search using the keyword "poop" before you get to this here blog. I suppose I should be very happy to report that when the keywords "daily poop" are entered even without the "Alexandria"; this blog comes out on top.
Alas, just plain "poop" still carries countless (and mostly gross) links, and even after eight pages still no mention of this blog. However, I can see why such a thing as a video titled "Justin Bieber Eats Poop" is among the top ten hits. As usual, there are some truly hilarious ones, such as whoever it was who replaced a "STOP" sign with a red octagon with "POOP" where "STOP" ought to be. (it doesn't matter, a red octagon means "STOP" however you slice it, but I can only imagine someome rolling up to that sign and having a laughing attack so bad their foot slips off the brake.)
I did find out, finally, where the term "Poop Deck" comes from. The "Poop Deck" on a sailing ship is of course the deck atop the Captain's cabin in the rear. "Poop" both in nautical and scatalogical terminology has the root in Latin of "Puppis" meaning "stern" or "rear". This raises an interesting question: If the "poop deck" is in the rear, then how come if you need to take a dump aboard ship, you go to the "HEAD"?? Does this have anything to do with the etymology of the expression "shithead"?
Lord help me, I need to get back to work.
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