Functionally ReTodded

I have spoken to the girl that I had the incident with this morning several times. For convenience sake, let’s call her Olga.

Well, after making an appointment to meet her at 1:30pm at the Gwinnett County Police Department precinct over by La Mall, she called me back, having apparently had a change of heart.

It seems she looked at the back of her fear-inducing insurance card and noticed that it said “moving violations and accidents stay on your record for 3 YEARS.”

She obviously talked with her husband and they agreed that putting the cost on the credit card might end up FAR better in the long run than going thru your friendly neighborhood “pay me a thousand bucks a year but don’t ever think of fucking calling me” insurance company.

I replied that I was fine with that, as long as we weren’t talking about fifteen $100 monthly payments, and she said “of course not,” so we had a deal.

I explained to her that in my recent experience with the local gendarme as well as your friendly auto repair shops, that the damage looked to be around $1,500 and she thought that sounded okay.

I have since been to my autobody place (Sterling Auto Body in Duluth, GA) and gotten an estimate that, including my rental car, is around $1,350.

Then, I got a call from Olga stating that this was out of her price range, and maybe we should fill out a police report, which required me to leave work AGAIN and go to the police station to do that.

I said fine and we headed to meet with a law enforcement body that totally fucked me over the last time I was involved in an accident that wasn’t my fault.

So we got there and a policeman met us at the door about 10 seconds after I arrived, and his punctuality was much appreciated. He asked for our pertinent information and then for each of us to describe what happened. I was buoyed by the fact that Olga right away said “and I drove out of my lane and into him.” HOORAY!! Admission of guilt, or at least absolution for me.

To Olga’s credit, she was able to get the tag number of the car that pushed her into me, and that came back valid to a driver with valid insurance, and the cop said “was it a blue Chevy cavalier?”

Ummm…Yes officer, it was.

He then explained that for a hit and run to occur, the offending vehicle doesn’t have to strike another vehicle or vehicles. That vehicle need merely act in such a way as to cause an accident and then flee the scene.

So, Olga and I have been advised to contact our respective insurance companies, and we were also assured that a detective would be paying a visit to Ms. Shit for fucking brains regarding the near cataclysmic accident she would have caused were it not for the superior driving skills and cool under pressure actions of myself. Further, it appears that my corroboration of Olga’s story strengthens our respective cases against Ms. Shit for fucking brains, which is also good.

Actually, I sort of embellished that part. But let’s be fair. Had I done what the driver to my right did, I’d have been upside down under a box truck like a scene from The Blues Brothers, and you’d all be seeing it on the evening news.

I am with and have been with my insurance carrier for about 15 years. This is the 3rd time I have been involved in an accident that was no fault of my own in the last year. In one, the other lady paid straight away, but in the other, I was forced to file a claim and my insurance rates were affected despite me being absolutely not at fault.

I won’t tell you which company it is, but they better get their good hands together and applaud my driving skills while they are handing me a check from the other person’s insurance to pay for my damage and my rental car, or I’m going to talk to the good neighbor folks. I need support and help from my insurance company, not the “Meh? Whaddya gonna do?” treatment.

I’ll keep you posted as the situation develops.

I’m not sure how many of you have experienced this, so I’m gonna ask.

Do any of you know how frightening it is to be playing pinball with your car amidst and among a thousand other cars at 75 mph or better knowing full well that, if you unexpectedly change lanes or hit someone else, there’s gonna be a shitstorm a mile long and 500 feet wide?

I am just sitting here now and thinking about how close that was to really catastrophic.

I must commend the young lady that hit me. Although she hit me instead of choosing to leave me out of it altogether, she did more or less maintain control of her car without exacerbating the situation by freaking all the way out, jerking the wheel one way or the tother as many young drivers would do.

I guess in the end of the day, if all I got out of a highspeed collision during rush hour on an intersate was some right front damage, then I should consider myslef retty lucky. That could have been much MUCH worse.

So, I’m sitting here on the bed playing poker and watching “Breaking Bonaduce” and thinking to myself “Self, you are SO not fucked up by comparison to THIS guy,” and waiting for Rock Star: INXS to come on at 10pm.

(sidenote 1: My wife just walked back in, sat down, sighed and said “I’m big.” I looked at her laptop and noticed she was shopping for overalls, so I said “Do you think you might want to upsize those?” Pregnancy is fun. Now back to the blog.)

(sidenote 2: the commercial for the Citi credit card rewards plan that has the two guys dressed like wizards and guys sitting on the sofa are shouting out attack moves and spells, and the doofuses are acting them out until the sofa boys finally shout RESET!!! RESET!!! is HILARIOUS!!)

I know. And before you start, I don’t give a shit what you think. We’ve watched the show since the beginning. I’m not proud of it, but there it is.

After watching for something near 287 weeks, it’s tim for the finale. You know…the one where the guys from INXS pick their new lead singer.

Their choices are:

JD: Box full of crazy former Elvis impersonator and former homeless guy who could easily slip back into shithouse rat crazy mode in no time. He’s talented

Mig: The guy that should be on a cruise ship or off-off broadway but is mysteriously still on the show based (I believe) solely on his Australianism. He’s talented, but in a Jazz Hands kind of way and is absolutely 100% wrong for INXS.

Marty: Easily the most talented of the three, but he is an opaque skinny blonde dude that I don’t think fits the image of INXS. Well, the image of INXS from 1989. I don’t think they have any image anymore, but that’s neither here nor there for the purposes of this blog.

(sidenote 3: On the show The Office, during the awards ceremony at Chili’s, the boss guy calls up Phyllis to get her “Busiest Beaver” award. Phyllis arrives at the microphone, is handed her trophy, and notices that it says “Bushiest Beaver.” My wife immediately started crying she was laughing so hard. Man, sometimes television is funny as hell).

By the way, I think I am one of the few folks that intentionally skips the shows that lead up to ones I watch. I mean, who in God’s name is watching Big Brother 6? I flatly refuse.

Now, without further adieux, let’s bring on Rock Star: INXS.

10:01pm - As the show starts, Brooke Burke is at her sluttily-dressed madonna-whore best, or worst, depending upon how you look at it. I love how I hear women talking about her saying “she dresses like such a whore.”

Ummm…yeah. That’s kind of the job of the spokesmodel / announcerette. Let it go.

All three finalists are dressed in their fancy black outfits, as is the band and co-host Dave Navarro. Brooke is also attempting to pull off the Farrah Fawcett hair, and it’s not right.

10:02 - Here’s that indtroducing of everyone you don’t remember at all that didn’t last. It’s uncomfortable for them and hilarious for me. Especially Deanna’s boobs and Ty’s hair. Oh, and Dave Navarro is still “guy giving candy to kids he doesn’t know” uncomfortable to me. I like him, respect his work, but man, he’s odd.

10:03 - Mig is showing his chest. What a surprise. They should make them all perform in burkhas so as not to affect the gay vote.

Oh, and showing INXS walking by a huge jet that says INXS on it is hilarious. They couldn’t afford to paint that plane, let alone own it.

10:03 1/2 - Now it’s the past performance montage. Meh.

10:05 - It’s Mig showing his abs again. What a douchebag.

10:07 - JD Fortune makes his first homeless joke.

10:08 - My friend Ethel says “I *heart* Marty and his tree song.” She’s right. That song “Trees” and JD’s song “Pretty Vegas” were awesome. Mig’s song was about his friend dying, which went over like a turd in a punchbowl with the band looking for a singer to replace the singer that died of a heroine overdose while masturbating and choking himself to death. Good choice, Mig.

10:10 - Ethel points out that it would be soooo awesome if after all of this “Sorry mate, but you’re just not right for our band” shit that when they got up to play, they all sucked ass. This is why it’s important to bring tv viewing professionals in when doing important blogging.

10:12 - Here’s the montage of why they should hurry up and vote Mig’s ass out…immediately. Fingers crossed. He’s singing a song that he sang off broadway in Queen: Off Broadway.

10:14 - The wife is now on the “Mig annoys me” train. Hooray. Ethel points out “You know, it just occurred to me how ironic it would be if JD won. Since he’s been impersonating Elvis, he’d might as well impersonate another dead singer he can’t do justice to.” Good stuff, Ethel.

10:16 - Wife now pointing out that he’s so ugly, no woman would ever swoon over him. Oh, and that sometimes she’s ashamed of women. And she’s sitting next to me. Now THAT is funny.

Hopefully that gong will be a sound that Mig hears a LOT more of in the very near future.

10:18 - Here’s video of JD attempting to skull fuck random women in the crowd. The band asked him to tone it down. Duh.

10:20 - JD will now sing “You can’t always get what you want,” orinally sung by the Rolling Stones. He’s gotta be careful of being “over the top” guy. Mig already did that, along with missing a trainload of notes. All he’s gotta do is be solid, and he’s in the final two.

Oh no, he’s trying to get all improvy. STOP!!! STOP!!! Just bring it home you crazy, homeless, elvis impersonating goof.

10:23 - Marty relives his horrifically uncomfortable beginning and shows why he should win. And doing “wish you were here” by Pink Floyd was a good choice for him.

His hairstyle for this week, however, was NOT a good choice. He looks like a see-thru penis.

10:26 - Still haven’t seen the uncomfortable Dave Navarro. You know, the one that reads wierd stalkery things from monitors and cue cards.

10:28 - Well, we left with a shot of the band huddled up like they were either pitching pennies, smelling Kirk’s fart or I guess they could been discussing who’s going.

If Mig goes, I believe in the integrity of the show. If it’s Marty, it’s better for him in the long run since he’s the one that’s got a solo future. If JD goes, then they don’t want a front man. They want an Australian, and they can head down the road to being Kaja Goo Goo with Mig. Only time will tell…

Hopefully they will do this quickly and not like the other eliminations that Brooke does where she says someone’s name and then says “you are…NOT it.” Bitch.

10:33 - High fives around the bedroom. The band has some taste and a vested interest in them not sucking immediately. Now I hope Mig cries, wets himself and then vomits on the band during his “proper goodbye.” Ah, now it’s him hugging the other losers. HOORAY!!!

10:34 - Ethel hits a new high by saying “It would be funny if whats his nuts (Ty) was all “INXS hates black people” a la Kanye West. LOL” I love my internet friends.

10:35 - Verizon commercial starring Shakira. Can someone tell me why she’s not stripping or doing porn? She’s vocally as talented as me. Can anyone even tell me the name of one of her songs?

Yeah, I didn’t think so.

(Sidebar 4 - I think my man-room wall of fame will also contain a print of Mike Myers making the “HOLY SHIT” face while standing next to Kanye Jackson Farakhan. Oh, reverend farakhan has now alleged that whitey blew the levies up to rid New Orleans of black folks. Just thought I should insert a little absurdity to break up all of the tension). 10:37 - Jesus. Marty’s flat as hell. Not like a pancake, but musically. They’re doing “Don’t Change” and it’s not particularly good.

I think INXS are playing right now thinking “Shit…we’ve gotta take JD, and we don’t want him. We didn’t really want any of these folks. This was kind of a goof. “

10:40 - Oh, and they’re using lasers. Like Billy Idol did during the Rebel Yell tour. Nice.

Ethel says, “JD is going to have to autoerotically asphyxiate Dave Navarro to blow it.”

Jesus, now JD’s acting like he’s having a seizure. I think he and Marty both decided to blow it to save their careers and to collectively run from INXS like the plague.

Trouble is, I think one of them HAS to win. It’s down to it. The band, after a lifeless mailed in performance, is now picking the guy that will “lead” them. I’m on the edge of my seat.

Here’s where we are. Ethel and I have decided that because of his song “Trees,” Marty wil get all of the quiet chicks that are all freaky in bed. Conversely JD, thanks to his “Pretty Vegas” tune, will get the crazy star-fucking ho’s. I think the band of geriatrics would prefer crazy star-fucking ho’s over quiet animal in bed chicks, so JD’s your winner.

10:50 - The boys share a Starsky and Hutch handshake and Dave Navarro tells us that we just saw the new INXS. Yikes.

10:52 - Here’s the cliffhanger.

It’s JD. He’s now laying on the stage, and may very well be Tony Stewarting his pants right now. It’s a big moment for a formerly homeless Canadian.

So that’s it folks. JD is now the lead singer of INXS. You may now return to the life that knows in its heart that INXS died with Michael Hutchence.

Here comes the uncomfortable, made for TV hug. I predict this ends up like David Lee Roth and Van Halen at the VMA’s a few years back.

One more thing from Ethel. What’s the over/under on how long it takes JD to end up in rehab? I’m guessing that it’ll be before the second “leg” of their “world” tour.

That’s all for me. It’s bedtime.

Good night everybody.