A couple more tidbits

Cuz I’m an idjit that forgot some stuff in the last one, although some are today news. Nothing so funny as the “sausagefest” bit, I’m afraid. I do wish I had a video to post of the Thorn guys separating at my sausagefest suggestion–I’ve never seen guys move so damn fast.

An e-mail to the Old Man
Dear Dr. Car Guy,

A trip to Wal-Mart this morning brought to my attention the rather rough idle of my babydaddy, Johhny. Even after about an hour of driving, the idle was rough (although it settled down immediately if I put the car in neutral, of course), and, in fact, the idle seemed to get slightly rougher the longer I drove. It didn’t stall (nor did that seem much of a threat–the idle wasn’t that rough), but it was definitely not smooth. It was also, however, 16 degrees Fahrenheit outside, although the car did eventually warm up (but the windshield washer fluid never un-froze :-P). Gas was good, brakes were good, and there were no odd sounds while driving. Was this just the cold weather, maybe the way I was driving (got up to 50 mi/h before the engine was really warm), or is my babydaddy just showing his age?

Luv,
Ruff Idler of The Big Haute

Return advice included a suggestion for getting a tune-up at a trusted place. Why “a trusted place”? An oil change in my mother’s car before the trip led us to drive 450 miles before pulling over due to the smell of something burning, only to find the fuckers had left the oil cap off and oil had sprayed all over the engine; luckily, the cap was left right under the hood, at the front, and only about a half-quart of oil was lost. Also suggested was acquiring pre-mixed anti-freeze (I might have heard that wrong) for the windshield washer fluid, and (long-term) having some sort of overhaul to Johnny’s carburetor. I don’t remember which of those solutions is supposed to fix the dieseling, but I think it was the tune-up. It was great to get to cruise at 45 mi/h and sing “Holding Back the Years” and “All the King’s Horses” at the top of my lungs, though.

I recently bought the SoundFeeder Powered Audio Adapter, an FM transmitter, powered through the cigarette lighter, for Johnny and my listening pleasure. However, the sound has a low volume, and the sound is rather… muffled, just like something was covering the speakers (compared to the normal radio).

Now, I can’t tell if FM transmitters are supposed to sound like that, by virtue of them being (relatively) itty-bitty transmitters (low-power and all that), or if it’s just this brand (their battery-powered model sounds the same) and I need to take it back. This would indicate the former, while this would indicate the latter (although that transmitter, as well as the C-Crane model I’ve been eying, are well over $60, and I’m not inclined to spend that much, and I insist on cigarette-lighter powering). Don’t know anyone on my floor with radio expertise, and, of course, Johnny has no tape deck.

Chez Miscarriage. Anything I say about this site, her writing, or her style simply won’t do her justice. Go forth and read.

I love my chemistry professor. She reminds me a lot of the teacher I had for tenth grade chemistry. Now, despite her guffaw (in my mind) of attempting to teach us an entire lesson (the only one we will have) on Reduction-Oxidation reactions in the fucking pre-lab this Thursday (while butchering the examples), she wins for making atomic orbitals this much fun. Addictive and educational.

Speaking of chemistry lab, I had another good one this past Thursday. I did the more complicated half of the experiment (it was more fun anyway), and let Yoo-Hoo?, my bright light of a lab partner, handle the second half, although I had to tell him what to do. It was a qualitative lab on redox reactions, in which we mixed oxalic acid and potassium permanganate with three chemicals, one acidic, one basic, and one neutral (sulfuric acid, sodium hydroxide, and water); the color changes should indicate what the products are. During clean-up, we were supposed to pour this “Magic Cleaner” (acidic H₂O₂) into the solutions we made, then dispose of the chemicals in this jug with a ridiculously difficult-to-open top. Well, dees shit was highly reactive, and one of the mixtures (I believe the peroxide/sulfuric acid/oxalic acid/potassium permanganate) overflowed out of the test tube and onto my hands. Now, Yoo-hoo? just stood there and said “Oh, shit,” blocking my access to sinks, soap, paper towels, anything to get the stuff offa me (although the new mixture was probably harmless, hence the point of pouring the hydrogen peroxide into the old solution, I still wanted it gone). Le sigh. After I gave him a hard look, he finally moved his slack-jawed ass out the way. My prof wasn’t concerned or excited–she just said to wash my hands for thirty seconds with soap and warm water–so I figured I wouldn’t die. And my fingers haven’t turned green and fallen off, so I think I’m good.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something… Oh well. Time for my run.