Popular Mechanics

I always said that I don't need anyone to ream my ass with sunshine. I'd prefer to meet someone who can clean a carburetor and/or make soup. And I did.

He isn’t too old or fat or stupid or sexist or married. He might not even be an alcoholic. He’ll probably never ask me to eat beef or shave or hold hands in public or meet his parents. He’ll probably never ask me to do anything other than to pay in cash. And I know, it’s such a cliché, but my mechanic is pretty much perfect.

He sure can talk about voltage swing… I hang around the shop, rifle though garbage , play with my hair, and try to impress this gentlemen with the breadth and scope of my self-deprecating humor. Closing time comes and goes and he continues at length about the benefits of monitoring my own tire pressure and wearing polyvinyl microfibers. I wonder if he is retarded. I also wonder if there is a panic button he's been trying to engage all afternoon that doesn't seem to work... Or if he thinks I’m too young. Or silly. Or if my fly is down...Is he trying to scare me away with this business talk?

Maybe he’s seeing someone. I wonder if I should accidentally leave my glasses so that he can have a reason to call me. Who could this other woman be? Surely, she can’t make jokes about Quantum Leap and nineties Hip-Hop like I can. Does she even have health insurance?

I can also open imported beers with a lighter. Can she do that? She’s probably totally controlling, suicidal and a coke-fiend. He’s got to take care of her. I guess… I guess I should check to make sure my fly isn’t down. Whoever she is, she's probably creepy.

Or maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe he just has a really physically, physiologically, and sexually crippling venereal disease. Like anal warts the size of brussel sprouts.

Otherwise, it could be that he thinks I’m flaky. Maybe he doesn’t like my jokes. Maybe he doesn’t like jokes.

Lately, I wonder why he hasn't returned my phone call about the battery I ordered two weeks ago. Should I take it personally? Should I stop by? Maybe he lost my number. Or maybe he’s too busy to order a battery. Or maybe he doesn't want to be my mechanic anymore. No. That’s silly. Maybe he’s dead. Or on vacation. Or getting married in France. Sheesh. Maybe he had to pass a kidney stone. Or maybe he's being held up at gun point by his girlfriend, who he finally realized has PTSD and rabies.

I should probably stop by.

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All the Bitches Wanna Get With Me

The Rap Video

4 out of 5 construction workers, men in unhappy marriages and my former therapist agree: I have sex appeal.

In my rap video, I proclaim that “all the bitches wanna get with me” as I am surrounded by a team of muscular and horny backup dancers who nod in sync with the base beat so as to confirm this obvious truth. Men rush to my aid as I approach an intersection, throwing their expensively hand-tailored blazers into rancid street-side puddles to prevent me from soiling my sneakers. My sex appeal means I never open a door for myself, I’ve never spent a dime of my own money and I am never subjected to the smell of raw sewage. As I traverse the subway vent on a beautiful afternoon, a cool breeze blows my white dress up from around my calves and every man in a three mile radius whistles in synchronous melody.

Or not.

Regardless of all the wife-beaters, forty ounces and cheap jewelry in my life, my rap video is suspiciously devoid of bitches.

The rap video, being the definitive indicator of both sex appeal and social health, is a facet of everyday life I take pretty seriously. I don’t allow just any bitch to make an appearance on the back of my Ducati- only to be spotted next week in Lil Kim’s video, licking Courvoisier off her fat toes.

There is a relatively simple formula I recommend using to determine which bitches to be in your rap video. I divide my bitches into two basic camps.

1. Bitches who want to play motorcycles
2. Bitches who do not want to play motorcycles


Bitches who want to play motorcycles will call whether or not you’ve made plans. They will do anything to play motorcycles, including, but not limited to, plowing you with alcohol and making bogus claims to clean your carburetor.

On the other hand, bitches who do not want to play motorcycles can be more difficult to identify. They do not make requests to play motorcycles. They may not notice you, they avoid eye contact and are not prompt to return phone calls. They may even seem blatantly uninterested in motorcycles and red-heads. Bitches who do not want to play motorcycles are basically self-obsessed, narcissistic homosexuals.

Nevertheless, either type of bitch qualifies to at least audidion for the video. I find that bitches who want to play motorcycles are more likely to provide consistent, dependable back-up footage. Meanwhile, those in the latter group, uninterested in playing motorcylces, are probably already cast as lead bitch in someone else’s rap video or are otherwise too busy jerking off in the mirror to be bothered.

More on bitches and rap videos to come...