Once upon a time, I mentioned that I had very bad luck with cars. Unfortunately, that trend doesn't seem like it'll end any day soon.

Last year, while on my way back from a job interview, the tread on my tire decided it was bored and parted from the tire itself. While I was driving the car. At 70 MPH.

My first impression was, "****, that's loud." Next thought was, "I had better pull over, because it's really hard to steer."

When I pulled the car over, I was shocked at the damage. The side marker light assembly was shattered, along with the lens. The tire was a total loss, and since I was leery of all tires at the time, I just replaced all four. Because I was still several miles from home and had no way of letting anyone know what had happened, I also got a cell phone for future emergencies.

Immediate cost: $250.

Fast forward one year...

New York requires that you bring your car to an inspection station once a year so someone can slap on a sticker that basically says "My car is safe to drive." I always thought it was a completely stupid rule: if a car is unsafe, I simply won't drive it, and I resent the $25 (it used to be $10 until emissions tests were required with the inspection) you have to pay for the "service."

In order to pass the inspection, you need all the lights and lenses intact. That meant I had to bring my car to an auto body shop to have them replace the damaged side marker light.

Cost: $40.

I picked up the car, and drove it home... and discovered, much to my dismay, that I was having a problem stopping. I had to jam my foot all the way to the floor in order to come to a stop.

Not good. Not good at all.

I waited until later that night (no traffic) and drove it across the street to the brake shop, and left it there along with a note to check the brakes, change the oil, and slap a sticker on to make me legal. I'm thinking it'll be a day (at most), about $1000 and NYS will be happy.

They called the next afternoon with really bad news:

That blowout? Turns out it did a number on the wheel bearing and spring on that side of the car. The broken spring cost me a strut on that side, too. Since the wheel bearing was wobbly, it caused to rotor to warp on that side and knock out the caliper as well.

In order to get me legal again, they had to (essentially) replace my entire front suspension and brakes. They also slapped on the "I'm safe, so bite me" sticker as well.

Cost: $2100.

That brings the total to about $2350... all for one blown tire.

I blame this on Seth Brundle. If he'd been smart enough to sweep for bugs, none of this would be necessary.

It would have been easier to swallow if my PC didn't decide to get flaky on me at the same time: the cooling fan on my video card locked up (fortunately, I caught the problem before it fried the GPU) and XP decided it no longer likes my wireless mouse ("Fatal Error While Installing," even though it has worked perfectly since Super Bowl Sunday). I had to dredge up an old optical mouse to fill in while I puzzle out how to get the laser mouse to work (it might be a conflict with the wireless router; since I can't find the frequency data for the mouse, though, I can't be 100% sure on that).

(Oh... no, it's not the mouse itself. I have it running fine on my laptop.)

It wasn't all bad. I did manage to pry myself away from everything long enough to hit up a local CD store and pick up the latest Testament album (The Formation of Damnation is excellent; I've been listening to it a lot, and it refuses to get stale), a couple of older Testament albums (Souls of Black to replace my cursed cassette copy... long story... and First Strike Still Deadly) and replacements for two old Flotsam and Jetsam tapes (When The Storm Comes Down and Cuatro). Nothing will cheer me up like a good solid metal infusion.

In all the confusion and chaos, my idea for my next editorial has flown off to Brazil. Hopefully, it sends a postcard.

So... here's to a much, much much better June. It can't *nope, stopping right there before I jinx it*.