Join Me in Rachelland

Hello. Happy Sunday, the day in which I beg you for questions that I will address in Tuesday’s Gene Pool, but promise to entertain you at the same time. I must say that when I began to type this newsletter, the vaunted Substack software refused to accept my typing, and I called Rachel over, and she did something to my computer that fixed the problem almost immediately, and told me that she had to “reconfigure the server to adapt to a different functionality” or something, and I think she was bullshitting me, but the fact is it works now and I feel dissed and manipulated and ridiculed and I am going to get even with her, right now in this here newsletter.

The next paragraph, the one you will read in just a moment, will contain all the information you need to have to solve Today’s Riddle, the answer to which I will reveal on Tuesday. The first person to correctly guess the answer will win a 2023 Verde Royale 2023 Maserati Ghibli Modena Q4 AWD ZF 8-Speed, just as soon as I can find a Maserati dealership willing to sponsor it. Again, the following paragraph contains all the info I need to supply:

This occurred on Friday, May 26, 2023, when I went into a Motor Vehicle Inspection Station in the District of Columbia, to get my motor vehicle inspected. It is a 2008 Honda Civic. I was six months late to this deadline for reasons I do not wish to discuss, but suffice it to say, I was a car-inspection felon. There was no line. There was no wait. They did not seem to notice or care that I was a felon. The guy asked me to step out of my car, and looked inside for 81 seconds. (I had a watch on, with a second hand.) He waved a wand around the door frame. I do not know why. He did not look at the tread on my tires, which were a little shallow. He did not inspect my brakes. He did not check any emission device. He did not connect anything in my car to anything that recorded anything, as near as I could tell. Then he told me to drive down to the next “station,” where a man with a scraper scraped off my previous inspection sticker and replaced it with a new one and told me I didn’t need to come back for another two years The entire process had taken two minutes and eleven seconds.

That is the end of the paragraph you needed to read. Can you win the car? I discovered the answer when I called my car mechanic afterwards and asked what the hell had just happened, if that helps.

Okay here is your job: Tell me the funniest story that ever happened to you, involving a car. Or, to add to the joy, tell me the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, car-involved or not. As a guide, I will link right here to a story I wrote about Rachel, long before she and I had become an item. I said I’d wreak revenge, and here it is.

Please send your questions / confessions / stories / anecdotes here. Do it now.

Also if you decide you want to give me a small amount of money, do it now. I’ll be grateful. You get wonderful stuff here.

But more important are your questions / confessions. Here.