Posts Tagged ‘car’


1996 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo for sale

April 15, 2008

1996 Grand Cherokee Laredo drives great, looks good and filled with lots of options: Ice Cold A/C, Power Windows, Power Door Locks, Power Steering, Cruise Control, Keyless Entry, Alloy Wheels, Anti-Lock Braking System.

Low mileage (under 120K) with mostly highway miles. Only second owner (belonged to family member beforehand.)

Must sell quickly due to job relocation to Boston, MA. Has all scheduled maintenance – oil & filter changed every 3 months, tires aligned and balanced every 6 months, recent engine work as well.

Very clean, non-smoker interior with no odors or smells. Very few interior blemishes on arm rests. Well maintained upholstery and floor mats.

Protect yourself and your family with features including dependable Jeep frame construction, Keyless Entry and Panic Button.

Looking for $4499 or best offer. A great deal for a great Jeep, please contact if you’re interested.

Accepting Cash, Personal Checks and Certified Money Orders/Cashier’s Checks. Will not accept Foreign Money Orders.

Please Contact El Cappytan if interested.


Tow Truck Car-ma

April 9, 2008

It’s funny because I always laugh. I climb up on my bed, peep out the blinds and laugh as some putz gets his car towed from one of the paid parking spots in front of my apartments

Karma is one huge bitch, though, but not in the way you’d think. Instead, of having my car towed away (I actually own a parking pass for one of the spots), the tow company refused to come pick up someone in my space.

Yeah, the asshole that enjoys watching everyone else getting redemption, gets none of his own. First, let me point out that I’m working with a company called Froggy’s Towing; from what I’ve seen and my conversations tonight, the company is owned by an inbred duo of sister/brother/cousins. So I call good ol’ Froggy, expecting to get my spot back in a minute.

Froggy’s Employee of the Month

Instead, the woman on the other line (who sounds like she smokes 4 packs a day and probably saves her Marlboro points for a new Dale Earnhardt toilet seat cover) tells me that I need to be a manager with the secret password. The dialogue went a little something like this:

Marlboro Man: “You need to be a manager of your complex with our secret password.
Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t call for video game tips. I thought I was calling to have a car towed from my spot.”
Marlboro Man: “Y’all need the password. There’s nothing I can do for you.”
Me: “Can’t you just prompt the driver to swing by my complex and check the tags. There’s revenue in it for you and a nice, fat space open for me. It’ll be our little secret.”
Marlboro Man: “You don’t have the password. Can’t do nothing.”
Me: “Then what the hell do I pay your company for? Why do I rent a spot here if you can’t enforce the agreement?”
Marlboro Man: “Honey, you don’t pay me shit! CLICK!

I stood there, reeling with anger, staring at this car blocking me from my amazing slumber on my comfy memory foam. What an asshole! I’m mad, but I decide to take care of it responsibly, so I call my landlord.

Me: “Hi, there’s someone in my spot at Canterbury Court, and I need them towed. Can you please call the towing company with the magic password so I can park?”
Landlord: “Oh, wow. I’m so sorry, I’m not the property manager. I’ve only been working here a week. Helen is the only one with the password. (Is it that fucking secret?) She doesn’t deal with towing situations on weekends because it’s the Lord’s Days, (yes, she said dayS) so you can like leave her a message tomorrow.”

My New Leasing Agent

I hang up the phone and angrily scribble a note: “Dear Assclown, Never park in this spot again, you stupid asshole!” I sign it with a little “<3,” you know that heart that everyone used to draw in 3rd grade.

I’m putting it on his car when I get a WOW moment. I pull on his door handle, just hoping he has a car alarm. Voila, it sounds, but there’s no reaction. I’m sitting there in my sweats and beanie, probably looking like I’m trying to rob this piece of shit car. I figure what the hell, so I pull it again.

Out walks this assclown, complete with his skater sweatshirt, way too baggy JNCO jeans and a 15 year-old McDonald’s employee mustache (and you know the one I’m talking about because we’ve all seen it.) “Why’s that fucking alarm going off,” he demands.

“Because you’re car is parked in my spot. Now kindly move it the fuck out,” I say with just the slightest hint of anger in my voice.

“What is this dent? What the hell dude? You punched my car? What the fuck is wrong with you?,” followed by 5 minutes of his ridiculous banter about the dent in his “baby.”

He finally pulls out. I start entering into my spot, feeling like I was being pulled on a chariot. This moron had just lost to my parking dominance. I reigned supreme in the parking world. That’s when he stole everything away from me: “Dude, you better watch out for your fucking car.”

Now Ladies and Gentlemen, El Cappytan is usually a pretty smart individual, but I was a complete idiot this night. After arguing with this street rat, I got right into my car and parked right in my spot, right in front of him. Needless to say, I’ve parked in another spot a block away for the past 3 days… because I’m just a plain, old schmuck.