Introduction to Me.

Hi. At this point I am talking to absolutely no one, because I am blog baby and no one knows that I exist. I tried to do a blog before. It didn't get much attention. It was about baby clothes. Oh well.

As it is, I am an unwillingly at home mom ( as my current employer is NOT LETTING ME WORK LIKE I WANT) and spend a lot of freaking time either cleaning, painting stuff, catching food on fire and reading blogs and playing with Prince ( the most worthwhile thing I do)

Then I thought. I can do this. I think stuff. I'm clever, witty, adorable and mildly insane. I don;t even use my real name, so no one knows who I am.

SO here it goes. I will give you some blank info, not highly incriminating, and I will expound from there.
I am 21.
I am married and have been for nearly three years. ( That's right, I got married at 19. ANd yes, its not a good idea)
I have a son and he is damn near perfect. But since I am not using my name, I shan't use his either, so from here on out, my son will be know as "Prince"
I work somewhere, and it involves people, hospitality and food. I have a polo shirt, but I do not wear it and no one bothers me about it unless the Big Boss is coming.
I drive a CRAPTASTIC car.

From here I will expound upon the fact that I hate my car.
The car is OLDER then I am. I was born in 88 this car is an 86. That is well beyond the life expectancy of any car. Honestly with how this car keeps coming back from the dead its like a zombie.

It has no doorpanels as Husband too apart the doors to fin the windows that had fallen off the track and then ran over the door panels. Now I am constantly having the backs of my legs bitten by a car. Not cool Zombie car not cool.

Also the starter is bad on the car. It takes at least three tries to
get the car to start and in the mean time it SCREAMS at me inprotest, causing me to scream profanity back at it, bang my head on the wheel, kick the dash and say, "I fucking hate you, car!" and then it starts. But during this process, onlookers stare and mock me.

Then, once the keys does turn, you then have to actually push the pedal down. This is something that requires considerable skill, and the cable is either too lose too tight or just too damn old, because you have to stop it like a rat in a deli to make it even start to go and even then sometimes it just fucking dies and then you have to do the whole screaming starter thing all over again.

Once you get going you need to deal with the fact that this car has two heaters and no AC, which really sucks in Utah in June. Five minutes means have a near stroke from heat. Prince pants and turns bright red within seconds.

Not to mention the fact that the car is ugly. Husband decided to anally rape a Cadillac a few months back, so we had to Frankenstien the car back together with a car that isn't even the same. The car now permenantly drifts to the right now.

This car sucks. People poke fun at me in my ugly ass car. Policemen pull me over because the car looks "Too bad to not be up to something" not to mention it cost $75 to fill the gas tank, which is a weekly, and sometimes twice weekly event . Paying $75 for gas is like being raped with a nozzle,and having your wallet stolen, no shit.

Husband says he has found me a new car, and by new he means a 1988 Country Squire station wagon, which is practically a mobile home. But it has AC and door panels and is all one color so I am willing to give it a shot.