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The "I don't want to talk about AI" thread, and the new topic is: something that rhymes with "clicks"

Got a new follower today. I usually check their profiles to see who else they're following and their favorite stories. This particular person has no (public) favorite stories, and I'm the only name on their list of authors. It's pretty new account, but not a really new account: seems to be more than a month old but less than a year. Almost feels kind of creepy to be the only one they're currently following, though.
Suggested new topic: weird or wacky follower/following anecdotes.
 
Statius said:
Huge lemon head here, looks amazing! And

Hope the car situation gets better and glad you're ok. Hang in there, you have friends here♥️.
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Honestly, I'm just dreading finding out my car has like a 2k$ problem and weighing that out with the potential of buying a new car instead. It's such a pain in the ass and I've had the car for almost 10 years now. It's a 2010, and altogether so far I've done about 2k in repairs in that time, so one big bill isn't the worst, but also, the next question is, what goes wrong next and when does it become no longer worth it to repair?

I quite like my car, but at some point it's no longer gonna make sense to repair it. My limit is probably once the repair brings the total up to or over what I originally paid for it.

Or maybe I do this repair, sell it for the cost of repairs I've made so far, and get a new (to me) car.
 
If the repairs are just mechanical in nature it's probably worth doing it and keeping the car. If it's starting to eat its electronics it's time to deep six it and get something with a warranty.

(Ask me how I know this :rolleyes:)
 
onehitwanda said:
If the repairs are just mechanical in nature it's probably worth doing it and keeping the car. If it's starting to eat its electronics it's time to deep six it and get something with a warranty.

(Ask me how I know this :rolleyes:)
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Considering I've only ever paid cash for a car, it's unlikely I'll ever get something with a warranty, lol.

A newer Prius is most likely. I really really like my car. I'm pretty sure until the repair is at the level of "cost of a down payment on a newer car" or "Dude, the undercarriage is nothing but rust" I'm gonna keep repairing it.

The fun bit is, depending on the depth of repair, this problem could be as simple as resetting the system, adding brake fluid, changing the battery, or a fully involved 2-4k+ repair on the entire ABS contraption.

Luckily, this isn't my first time driving a vehicle without ABS so I was able to control it pretty easily as I was still on a low mph city side street and not going 80 down the highway.

Without power steering and I would've been in a world of hurt, I've done that before on a 1980s truck going down the highway in Alabama. My dad had to help me steer it and even he was struggling against it. We managed to get it down to a parking lot, lol.
 
Erozetta said:
Considering I've only ever paid cash for a car, it's unlikely I'll ever get something with a warranty, lol.

A newer Prius is most likely. I really really like my car. I'm pretty sure until the repair is at the level of "cost of a down payment on a newer car" or "Dude, the undercarriage is nothing but rust" I'm gonna keep repairing it.

The fun bit is, depending on the depth of repair, this problem could be as simple as resetting the system, adding brake fluid, changing the battery, or a fully involved 2-4k+ repair on the entire ABS contraption.

Luckily, this isn't my first time driving a vehicle without ABS so I was able to control it pretty easily as I was still on a low mph city side street and not going 80 down the highway.

Without power steering and I would've been in a world of hurt, I've done that before on a 1980s truck going down the highway in Alabama. My dad had to help me steer it and even he was struggling against it. We managed to get it down to a parking lot, lol.
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When I was younger, stupider, and in my fast (for me) car phase, I had a VW golf whose master brake cylinder failed as I was doing 80km/h down a narrow back road towards a hump that we all tried to get air-time over...

Thankfully growing up on the pimple on the arse end of nowhere, spending years sitting next to my dad and watching him drive, and having a basic knowledge of physics all coincided with me somehow managing to leave a credit-card-width's gap between me and the minibus who was in the intersection as I screamed (in all senses of the word) through with no braking whatsoever. Managed to slow myself enough with the handbrake and what little brake force I had to pull off into someone's driveway where I proceeded to have a melt down and a friend had to come find me and drive behind me to make sure I got home safely. Fixed that brake cylinder and traded the car in the next week.

I grew out of my "fast" car phase very quickly after that.
 
onehitwanda said:
When I was younger, stupider, and in my fast (for me) car phase, I had a VW golf whose master brake cylinder failed as I was doing 80km/h down a narrow back road towards a hump that we all tried to get air-time over...

Thankfully growing up on the pimple on the arse end of nowhere, spending years sitting next to my dad and watching him drive, and having a basic knowledge of physics all coincided with me somehow managing to leave a credit-card-width's gap between me and the minibus who was in the intersection as I screamed (in all senses of the word) through with no braking whatsoever. Managed to slow myself enough with the handbrake and what little brake force I had to pull off into someone's driveway where I proceeded to have a melt down and a friend had to come find me and drive behind me to make sure I got home safely. Fixed that brake cylinder and traded the car in the next week.

I grew out of my "fast" car phase very quickly after that.
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We need a "holy shit" react.

My fast car phase should have ended when I spun out on an off ramp and narrowly missed flipping my car down a steep embankment. But it didn't. No brake failure, just me being 17 and thinking I could take the off ramp at 90. I mean, I did succeed, so I wasn't wrong. And I righted myself, drove to work, clocked in, then ran to the bathroom to throw up. I still managed to work my shift in some sort of daze.

I didn't lose the urge to drive fast, I just save it for when I'm in the car by myself.
 
Update: mechanic thinks it's a faulty part from a brake job I had done not too long ago. They are towing to my regular mechanic to get it looked at so it can be repaired under warranty if that's all it is.
 
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Erozetta said:
I still managed to work my shift in some sort of daze.
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Welcome to Oh-no-o'clock. Do you also get that cold, clammy feeling of unreality where you're just staring down at your knees and going "please let that be the last of it and I swear I will never be that stupid ever again"

I hate that feeling.

Also... what are we asking me if I know? I feel... uneasy.
 
oh, right. The car warranty?

Well, see... ultimately there's a religious war in South Africa, and that Religious War is based on whether a Toyota LandCruiser or Landrover Discovery is the ultimate offroad vehicle.

So little miss Wanda - once she had more than two pennies to rub together and had moved over to Blighty - well, little miss Wanda took her denim-clad ass down to the local Landrover dealership (because I'm ultimately British, right, and Landrover is as British as Fish and Chips and getting Stabby over football. Shut up about Tata. Just shut up).

So I bought myself a Freelander 2. And oh my god I fucking loved that car. She went everywhere with me - sailing, camping, muddy fields, snow, ice, France, France in snow and back... Of course, she was a complete psychopath, and her onboard navigation system was awful, and she delighted in fucking with me and finding the darkest, steepest, muddiest route to get anywhere.

"OH, Wanda, Remember how you said you wanted to go to this Hotel in Inverness? Ha ha, funny story, it's just the other side of this river ford. Don't worry about the depth stick, that 6 is inches, I swear!"

(The depth was not inches).

We roared through this passionate, insane conflagration of duality and... you know what, I don't even have a fucking word for how tightly coupled she was to my identity. I was the crazy woman in the silver landrover. I'd arrived! I'd found my forever car! STUCK IN THE MUD? BITCH, I'LL TOW YOU AND THE CAR BEHIND YOU!

EVERYTHING WAS AS PERFECT AS ANYTHING HAS EVER BEEN AT ANY POINT IN THE ENTIRE HISTORY OF ALL UNIVERSES!!!!!!!!

Except... the thing was that the bitch was a cutter. She liked to hurt herself. She was a fucking cannibal. Or whatever the fucking word is for things that EAT THEMSELVES.

She ate her turbo - ALL OF IT - which was hilarious. Then she ate her intercooler, which was even more hilarious. Then, one lovely morning. she went in for a service and ATE HER FUCKING ENGINE while they were test-driving her. Thank fuck it was them, not me. Jaguar-Landrover got involved, replaced her engine with a factory reconditioned secondhand for goodwill, which I was very pleased about, and we pootled along for a year or two...

But she was sullen. She was hiding things. She was plotting. See, she'd tried to off herself, and I'd got in the way between her and sweet Oblivion, and she never forgave me.

So she started eating other things. Window mechanisms. An automatic door latch. The sunroof mechanism. (People who've kept pet Landrovers will probably be nodding sagely at this point, because they know).

At length she decided that what she really, really wanted was a transmission controller system buffet. And at that point I went "YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK YOU" and sold her. Her MOT is still current so someone somewhere is dealing with the bitch's tantrums.

I still miss her. I miss her every time I see another Freelander 2. Fuck, she was a lovely car. But I couldn't afford her feeding bill any more 😭

I drive a hybrid Volvo now, and while I love her, it's a sedate and quiet and warm kind of love that is appropriate for someone who has loved and lost - but never incandescent in the way I loved my Landy.

I will never buy another Landrover. I'm not brave enough. But every so often I look at them and go "Oh, but would it be so bad..."

And then my brain grabs me by the ears and points at the memories and goes "REMEMBER WHY WE MADE THIS PROMISE TO OURSELVES!"
 
onehitwanda said:
Welcome to Oh-no-o'clock. Do you also get that cold, clammy feeling of unreality where you're just staring down at your knees and going "please let that be the last of it and I swear I will never be that stupid ever again"

I hate that feeling.
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Umm... No.

For me it was more or less "Holy shit, what the fuck did I just do and how did I survive?" It was more or less just being in shock that I didn't die and being uncertain on whether or not I was okay with that.

I get that feeling about other things, but not things involving my own near death. Other people being put at risk because I do a dumb thing? Yes, absolutely. Myself at risk, not so much.

I have this habit of taking death out for a date then not putting out at the end of it. One day, though I'll either stop teasing death or they'll finally figure out I'm a sub and make me another notch on their ankh. I look forward to either outcome.
 
I think of Death like a postman - it's just doing its job. It wants to do a good job, but it's got its rules and suchlike, and it's not got the best gear, but it mostly works so it'll be good enough, hopefully, and if not it'll have a nice story for over a cuppa with the rest of the team later.
 
Erozetta said:
I've technically met her twice, but only in passing.
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I saw her once, when I was about 20. I was very sick - really bad flu - and woke up in the very early morning to see a figure in my bedroom. A small woman in a grey gown, pulled low over her face but with white hair hanging down. She was standing in front of a white wardrobe, so no shadows or anything that I might have mistaken.

I'm not a religious person, but I pulled the blankets over my head and started praying.
 
onehitwanda said:
But I couldn't afford her feeding bill any more 😭
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At the high risk of being hunted down and mounted on a wall somewhere (or found splayed out on the hood of a Landrover at the bottom of a non 6 inch river) I'll say the same thing I've told one of my friends who's gone through three Landrover Discoveries with similar self destructive tendencies:
This is why people buy Toyota LandCruisers...
 
StillStunned said:
I saw her once, when I was about 20. I was very sick - really bad flu - and woke up in the very early morning to see a figure in my bedroom. A small woman in a grey gown, pulled low over her face but with white hair hanging down. She was standing in front of a white wardrobe, so no shadows or anything that I might have mistaken.

I'm not a religious person, but I pulled the blankets over my head and started praying.
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I drowned as a very little kid and freaked my cousin out (he pulled me from the water and resuscitated me) when I asked where all the puppies and kittens went. I have no memory of it, but he and my sister said after I coughed up all of the water, I started crying and wanted to go play with the puppies and kittens over by the garage again and I liked being in the water. They could be full of shit for all I know, but death meeting me as a bunch of small furry things I can care for would fit my personality 100%

The other time was when I was about 19. That one I remember and part of it made it into a story I had here for a while.

Black cloven hooves stepped beside me. One lifted, pulling my sticky blood up with it as it stepped closer to me. A deep sigh filled my ears and it felt like time stood still. My heart slowed - a couple of seconds between each strangled beat.

Then everything changed.
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I'm confident it was a hallucination from blood loss. The first incident was most likely a hallucination from a lack of Oxygen, or just a straight up lie by my sister and cousin.
 
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