Krantz Cronicle. Azz of the week

I’m buying myself a trophy. Cause I’m worth it. 

Thursday  21-05-15

– Today I dragged  the Cuba Lincoln right in to the tool cabinet  and the crashing of metal tuned in together in a hateful song.
Next time I order trophies for Krantz Challenge I will have one made for myself. “Azz of the week.”

Have earlier described how I was in a crash with myself in this blessed yard. How I drove my newly waxed LTD out from the garage after an entire winter of sweet tender loving care just to ram it into a Chevelle, that one also mine. That time i went straight into the house to lie down in bed. Myran found me underneath the cover when she got back from work.
– Are you sick, she asked?
– Yes, totally sick.

Yesterday bedtime was close again. It’s the Verktygsbodens (Tool Store’s) fault, all of it.  That Lars guy and his movies.
– Hey, my name is Lars, he says and shows some great invention I have to buy. The latter a service lift that can jack up three ton to the nipples.

I had been out, riding the Cuba Lincoln around half of Sweden on a road trip with the trunk filled with cameras. Well home after a seven day trip where the country-sweep ended with a mega-party-night-gig in Österbybruk I walked around with the brain on dimmer. I’m not 25 anymore. A can of crushed tomatoes had shown better reflexes than me.

The Lincoln had been resistant driving home. An irritating vibration somewhere from the drive package. In with it and up with it on the lift with a mute brain. It was all going fine in the beginning. I found the car at once. It was behind the house. Drove down on the grovel to enter in the front driveway. Tried aiming straight in the middle of the driveway. It went great. Didn’t get the ditch or anything and all lamp posts were standing straight. The door next then. It reminded me of door number 23 on the advent calendar. A little, hidden sucker that’s not at all as big as the 24.

I found it after some time. It was on the garage. Opened it, sat back down in the car and closed my eyes.
– This is impossible, I thought. 

It was as if the Ford had swelled up. Took aim in the middle of the open door and went for it. A new thing is as you will drive uphill going on the lift, up on the lift even if it’s down.

Clink, clonk, was a welcoming sound. Now there’s just one thing left, getting the front wheels down on the floor on the other side. It had all proceeded so surprisingly smoothly  so that the tomato puree decided to put it all to a stop to go out and have a look.

-???
Look! At what? If the car was standing on address 135? If the concrete floor was still there? What was being looked at? As I stepped out the front wheels rolled over the little shitbag of an edge, down on the floor and the entire crapbag of a car rolled straight into the miserable tool cabinet.

The cabinet is the most expensive that money can buy. A German quality cabinet. Franz Jaeger the bandit brother would have said. The tools are smoothly sliding into place on ball-bearings that make our new-installed kitchen drawers look like banana boxes on gravel. Drawer number four was pulled out. The one with bits and a homemade socket to the Blazer’s front wheel hub. The Cuba Lincoln pushed it back in from the side.

Lincoln – Franz Jaeger
1  –  0.

Have been hammering with the miserable hammer on the shitty drawer the rest of this crapfest of a week.

Krantz – Drawer
0  –  50.

It looks like an orange. The tool cabinet looks like a four year old with a milk tooth gone.
– It’s high time for me to by myself a trophy.