Moooonday Mania: Bart Bart Bart

Update: HAPPY NATIONAL ENGINEERS WEEK! You, me, Pi to the 27th decimal place contest, right now… win, you always do…

So GirlyGirl TextAsked a profound question late last week that requires a bit of pondering: How are ya gonna get around school without a car, m@?

(Editor’s Note: At no point in our relationship has GirlyGirl ever referred to me as m@. However, I’m fairly convinced that my common reader demographic is under the age of four, so I don’t want to divulge any endearing terms we may swap in normal conversation. Besides, she started it!)

Always leave it up to her to be the voice of reason, and by golly, it would rate about -4 on the Tact scale if I had responded by saying ‘Well, jam rabbit…er hunny bunny…er GirlyGirl, I’ll just borrow yours.’ I’m glad my conscience sounds eerily like a dorm room fire alarm, otherwise I would have likely gotten a women’s size 9 (“A size 8 is SO not a size 9!!“) to the shin.

Indeed, I’m starting to come to terms with having to relenquish The ‘Wu come January. And anyone who’s had the joy-of-joys experience of owning a WRX knows that having to sell one is an experience probably similar to passing a kidney stone.

But GirlyGirl got me thinking, and I spent a considerable amount of time this weekend (read: about 14 minutes) pondering my transportation options. The top three are highlighted below:

1. BART (AKA Bay Area Rapid Transit, AKA Not Simpson, AKA Not Blyleven, That’s Bert Blyleven)

The positives are clear: I can efficiently return to my Berlinesque transport options and hop on die Strassenbahn zum Osdorfer Strasse und Lichterfelde Zud und….<kaff> sorry. It’ll be sweet. Negatives: …no stop in Ann Arbor? Boooo!!!

2. Scooter

70 miles to the gallon = Ideal in California. Balding tires and no heater = not so good in Ann Arbor.

3. Water Buffalo

If Larry is correct, then we’re talking about a perfect recreation of Henry Ford’s assembly line. Universal water buffalo repair stations = low cost. (Insert water buffalo sound here, probably something similar to the sound my conscience makes.)


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