Ugh. Dick of a landlord is threatening to have Freddie Mercury (my beat-the-fuck-up 2001 Mercury Cougar) towed, because he’s all fucked up from the last wreck. I was kinda half hoping I’d find the money and time to fix him back up myself (body shop said it’d be thousands), but I guess this is it. Got my hands on some weed to see him off proper, and just went out and smoked a joint sitting in the drivers seat listening to “Moonlight Mile” by the Stones.
This hurts. I have moments where I can celebrate his life rather than mourn his passing, but mostly it hurts.
A wrecker is coming to haul him off for scrap day after tomorrow. Tomorrow night will be another joint with another sad traveling song. When I get off work the next day, he should be gone.