"God Megan! You're going to kill the clutch!" My mother says accusingly to me. All I can do is look at her with bewilderment because she actually thought I could do this. We're sitting on probably the steepest hill in the world, it's my second time driving a standard, and my mom suddenly has this faith in me that's failed to show through on more appropriate occasions.
"Well fuck, mom, I can't do it." Is my huffy response. My mom chuckles to herself. What is she high? High on the fact that she can do this with the utmost ease, but all I can manage are spinning tires and the all quiet of a stalled car... again.
Welcome to my latest challenge. But it's all good because soon I can get out of the beast of a van that I've been lugging around since my car got stolen. By the way I've decided not to be mad about that because if someone wanted that car so badly, they must have really needed it more than me, really, it was hideous. Anyways, I'm pretty sure that in day to day life, I won't be starting on streets that are vertically perpendicular to normal ones, causing me to stall roughly 20 times in a row.
I think I've calmed down by now, so it's all good. Hmm, so, I dissected a pig heart today, and I have to say I was kind of dreading it 'till I got there. It was sweet. Did you know that blood clots are stretchy? Or that you can stick your finger through the pulmonary artery and have it come out the atrium and move it around like that hand game where you lock your fingers together and tell someone to "open the diaper" and you wiggle your finger around like a little tiny penis? No? You didn't play that game? Oh, well...too bad.
2 comments:
its best to rely on the clutch and ignore the gas. there is a point where the car will move forward ever so slowly and will not stall. from there you can easy into the throttle.
I think I've finially got it, you may now call me "Sir Clutchalot". Lame, no?
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