i'm in dallas where it's 1,000 degrees, i've got a cold, my hotel room is next to the ice machine which makes sounds akin to a helicopter landing on my forehead every 10 minutes and my rental car just started wildly smoking for no apparent reason. tomorrow is my birthday, my 25th birthday, which means i'm officially old. at least i don't have cancer yet.
**UPDATE** the customer service rep at the car rental agency was like, "can you drive it back to the airport?" and i was like, "um, no, i don't think it's a good idea to drive a smoking car down the freeway". he's like, "well, we'll cover the towing but if we can't find anything wrong with it, you'll have to pay for it". then the bitter queen came out, "well, i'm pretty sure the clouds of smoke and the drivers next to me honking and pointing at the impending explosion will vouch that there's something wrong with the car, so why don't you get on the horn and call a tow truck". *two snaps up*
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