Your love is like carbonized burgers from the grill
The National Highway and Transportation Safety Board, a bunch of wet blankets if there ever were one, is looking into the Chevy Bolt after merely three fires.
Chevrolet is flummoxed, yes, flummoxed.
They are going to change their advertising: In a Chevy Bolt, you're never cold! The perfect electric car for the winter!
When alerted about the investigation, Chevy asked what the problem was.
The NHTSA said it was the unfortunate propensity of the cars to burst into flames.
"That's a feature, not a bug," said Chevy
Not while there are people in it, said the NHTSA
"Think of the warmth during winter!"
What do you call it during the summer?
"Somebody left the heat on."
And the car burned down?
Yeah, we're still working on that ad slogan. Still, it's a very warm car.
It certainly is - 3 of them have burnt right up.
Yeah, well, they have, but look at all the Bolts that
haven't burnt up.
We here at the NHTSA are here to protect the public.
Ok, ok, you've told us. It's only 3. Can you stop this silly investigation?
Each one of them started in the battery compartment.
That's part of our Warm Car initiative.
It's right under the passenger compartment.
Well, we can't keep people warm if the fire... sorry.. warmth... is by the tires, can we?
One caught fire while charging, at people's houses.
Yeah, well, we want to keep their houses warm too.
Another caught fire 20 minutes after being parked.
It's obviously an adjustment of the Warmth Delay control.
The last burst into flames at an insurance auction yard.
Chevy is known the world over for its safety record.
These 3 cars caught on fire.
But nobody was hurt or killed.
That's hardly the point.
It
is the point. At Chevy, we put safety first.
How is cars randomly bursting into flame putting safety first?
Well, there were only 3 and no one was hurt.
Look, if you're riding down the street in your brand new Chevy Bolt and it self-ignites, that's hardly a safety feature.
Nah, it's warmth in the cold.
In Arizona?
Look... maybe they just had an ice cream and were feeling chilly. Could happen.
And their car bursting into flames will keep them warm?
Now you're getting it.
What if they're charging their car and it goes up?
Advertising.
Advertising?
Yes. All of the sudden, people all around will come rushing to the car. Advertising.
What about the car?
Well, naturally we'll replace it. Minus certain charges.
Is there anybody older than you around?
My daddy said not to bother him when he's by the pool with Aunt Brenda. She floats all by herself. Dad said it's her pontoons.
....click
Today I identify as meat
Australia, Canada, Japan, Luxembourg, Italy, the UAE, and the US have joined together to return to the moon. They have agreed to a 10 point plan, 8 of which are top secret and you're not allowed to know:
- Everybody gets t-shirts that say "We've done this before, haven't we?"
- I don't care if he comes up to you and offers you a coke: what you saw was not an alien
- Luxembourg?
Dear lefty
- Did they really change the blogger's view layout
- Why yes, they did. They went out of their way to hide the most used functions and make any semblance of usefulness useless.
- What was improved in the new, improved view?
- As best I can tell, nothing. It was a solution looking for a problem.
- Are there any new features?
- Yes, I can add a video, and spend twice as long getting to basic functions.
- Is it personal? Are they out to get you? Are you, like Sir Robin, going to bravely turn your tail and flee?
- NEVER [add maniacal laughter]. I walk through nuclear holocaust for my readers. And with the new layout, I'm even further out of the loop as to how many there are. I am, however, greatly impressed with the dating system, which tells me this was published 2 days into the future. I guess if anybody is going to master time travel, it's going to be Google.
So I finally got to the doctor, and when I say got to the doctor, I mean saw a nurse practitioner, and when I say I saw a nurse practitioner, I mean I talked to one on the phone. Most of this was ok with me cuz I'm not really happy with telemedicine, because naturally that's where everything's going.
To get an appointment was a struggle. "Our call volume is higher than normal." I'm trying to give people a break, so I held on. Every 5 seconds, I heard "You are 11th in line, please hold on to keep your place in line." It kept going for about a week. They scheduled my appointment, then called me to remind me. Meanwhile, they hadn't given me any info about telemed. I told them to scrap it and have the lady call me. That's it - call me. Medicine has made great strides, from home visits, to office visits, to phone calls. So I waited for my appointed time for my appointed appointment. Naturally it went overtime, with no call. So I called them, assured that I was 47th in line, and I should hold to keep my place in line. Fortunately I was working, so I could monitor my sainted place in line for 30 to 45 minutes. I told them she didn't call.
"Oh."
Yeah, pretty much. It's not that difficult. Dial the phone number. No video screen, just dial the phone number, like when your husband is out and you want to have him killed, or maybe want some pizza delivered. Just dial the phone. The lady on the phone offered me an afternoon appointment, which, for some reason, I didn't think was right. Finally they found a better one for me.
They told me the lady's name, like it was Mary Smith, which is was for them, but not for any single patient she would see. I didn't recognize it after they spelled it out and I read it back to them. I couldn't even tell the nationality. No matter, I'm sure she's good at her job. She called more or less on time, and by more or less on time, I mean less than 30 minutes late. I had high hopes for nurse practitioners because maybe they weren't assholes, like doctors. Apparently they teach them asshole-ity too. She says she's going to send me for a test. I suggest a lot of tests. No, they're going to take a Flying AIDS test in my car and not a single other test. Nothing. We're going to rule out the Flying AIDS. As we know, I'm no doctor, but I play a gynecologist on tv, so I'm starting to get agitated. I ask what about any other tests. She says she'll call me back with the result in a few days and then I can make an appointment with an actual doctor, who would probably order some blood tests. Or blood testes. I decided to challenge her authority: "so I can essentially drop dead after the Flying AIDS test?" She said, "Well, there are no other symptoms and you said you're feeling better today." Our conversation was interrupted by loudly screaming kids and a dog, who wasn't mine. This means they were hers, because parents don't hear their own little bastards shrieking. At least make an attempt at professionalism, even if you have a weirdo at the other end of the phone.
We're screwed. Medicine appears to be one large Flying AIDS test, then you can make another appointment and get some more tests, hopefully not in your car. We, who speak loudly in restaurants and speak sarcastically on a blog, have already ruled out Flying AIDS. I asked about symptoms, and she said basically any symptoms at all. Nobody has any idea, like I said.
I have to isolate. How does one isolate from a dog and a wife? Meh-they're both asymptomatic. How does an amateur agoraphobe get any transmissible disease? The last time I was out was 3 weeks ago, to see my mother, who does not have the Flying AIDS. The incubation period is 2 weeks, btw. So if nothing else, whatever I have, if I do not drop dead first, is almost a good thing, in that I have to isolate, as if I don't isolate already. I think it's time for the circus to pull up stakes, fold the canvas, and gtf out of town; it's too goofy here.
Getting tested was not a problem, they told me. Which meant getting tested was a problem. I got myself an appointment, but knew this was going to be a problem. It was at a hospital... not in a hospital - at a hospital. We had to pull up in cars and they'd tell us what to do. Even before I got there I had suggestions on what to do. They told me to look for the cones at the Jeremiah Proctus Cancer Center. The only problem is that there is no Jeremiah Proctus Cancer Center, or at very least, no Jeremiah Proctus Cancer Center signs. A careful survey of the entire 27 block campus provided no signs, no red traffic cones, and a gradually rapid rise in temper. So I called the hospital. Have you ever called a hospital? There is simply no way to get a human unless you know their name. Mrs lefty couldn't even get the front desk. Around the block we went, where I finally got an operator.
HELLO?
Hi, I'm looking for
HELLO?
Hi, I'm looking f
HELLO? click
They had hung up on me, as if they hadn't heard me. I've seen this trick before.
Mrs lefty tries, system hangs up on her.
With 95% left in my phone battery and 2% left in my sanity, I called Scheduling. She said she'd tell them to wait, hang on....
HELLO?
Hi, did you get them?
HELLO?
Hi
HELLO? click
Wow, the trick is institutional!
When she could hear me, she reiterated Jeremiah Proctus Cancer Center. After another 6 revolutions of the complex, including stopping behind every bus running, we found a cone! I felt like we were at the end of our religious pilgrimage and had finally found the grail. We found a sign too! A tiny yard sign that said Jeremiah Proctus Cancer Center. It was in the grass, next to the hospital, 7' away from the cone.
The pit crew was waiting for us, running up to the car, changing one rear tire, cleaning the windshield, and running back to the building, at which point I asked if anyone was doing scheduled Flying AIDS tests. All action stopped, while the best pit team I've ever used consulted with each other and someone came to the window. I always thought it would be cool to be able to read body language. The lady who asked my name was a good study in body language: her feet were near the car, but every possible other part of her, including her mask, was at least 10' away.
They sent out their best VP in Charge of Flying AIDS Testing (Thursdays), who came at me, full force, with an armed Q-tip, aimed straight for my throat. I think she kept poking at me longer than she had to, out of spite.
The terror of the trip will not go away.
On the way home, I got ice cream.
- After one of my old gigs, we befriended a bachelorette party. I found myself on the lap of a particularly Southern, tall member, who let me know she was worth the climb.
- Keen to begin climbing activities, I was forced to stay at ground level, or I wouldn't be climbing in bed with my girlfriend. Life was funny that way. Life conspired against me every now and then.
Russian interference into the election continues, when Sergiy Polinsky asked if maybe the Americans like borscht.
- We have more variety in dog treats than people treats. If I ask about this, I'll be told I'll get more treats when I perform adequately.
If I turn on my work computer, why does Windows say not to turn it off?
If you take nothing else from this entry, know that, if he were still alive, Bing Crosby would be 117. At that age, you have to hire someone else to beat your kids.
RIP
Conchatta Ferrell - Berta from 2.5 Men (77)
