Monday, June 4, 2007

The Cosmic Gas Cap

My friend Karen used to have an old Dodge Aspen, and we spent the entire summer riding around in it while smoking pot and listening to Pink Floyd. We were both nineteen, and neither of us were in school, so riding around and getting stoned while Saucerful of Secrets blared on her kick-ass car speakers seemed like a lot more fun than anything else we could think of.

One day we were doing just that, when we noticed a parked car that was almost identical to hers. The only difference was that this car had a gas cap. Karen's did not. She had lost her gas cap a couple of weeks before, and had gone to several auto parts stores looking for a replacement. For some reason, none of the stores stocked that particular item, and it turned out that she would have to special order it from the manufacturer. Or something. I don't know exactly, but it was something like that. It wasn't my problem, but I was aware that she was having difficulties replacing her gas cap. In the meantime, however, she made do by stuffing a red rag into the gas hole, which I thought made the car look like a molotov cocktail, but it seemed to work sufficiently for the time being.

As you may know, many scientific studies have indicated that smoking marijuana on a daily basis can degrade one's problem solving skills, yet it did not take us very long to figure out that we could easily solve her gas cap problem by simply removing the gas cap from this other car and putting it on her car. See? Nothing wrong with our brains. And, yes, I know stealing is wrong, but we were young and high and didn't give a shit, whattaya gonna do.

So we pulled in beside the parked car and both of us got out. I had look-out duty while she unscrewed the gas cap from the other car. Once she had it screwed onto her car, we quickly decided that the most moral thing would be to stuff the red rag into the other car's gas hole, so as not to leave the other person completely empty handed. It was the least we could do.

As we drove away, we mused over how the presence of the red rag would add an extra layer of puzzlement for the owner of the other car.

The very next day Karen's dad presented her with one shiny, brand-spanking-new gas cap. Being one of those salt-of-the-earth/leave-it-to-beaver type of dads, he had possessed the proper skills required to hunt down and obtain virtually any gas cap in the world, a skill which nineteen year old pot heads seem to lack for some reason. Instead of informing him that she had already taken care of the situation via an act of crime, she decided to just accept the gas cap graciously, and tell him what a great dad he was, and what would she do without him, etc. She promptly took the new gas cap out to her car, still in its original packaging, and tossed it in the backseat.

And that, we assumed, was that.

About two months and 180 joints later, we were riding around, getting high and listening to Pink Floyd. I think we had musically worked our way up to Ummagumma by then. Or maybe it was Meddle. I'm not sure, but at one point we turned a corner, and there, before us, was that same car. It was now parked in a different parking lot, but it still had that same red rag stuffed into the gas hole. Apparently, we were not the only ones who lacked the amazing gas-cap-finding skills of Karen's dad. It really did look like a giant molotov cocktail, I thought to myself.

We pulled over and both of us got out. I stood guard while Karen yanked the rag out of the gas hole and screwed on the shiny new cap. The car certainly looked a lot more respectable without that rag sticking out of the side, and we lingered for just a moment to admire our work. We were quite pleased with ourselves.

As we drove away, we felt a certain satisfaction with how the loose ends had tied up so neatly, and wondered whether or not the car's owner would find the whole thing as amusing as we did.


fingers said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Old Knudsen said...

Petrol cap for a Dodge Aspen? sounds like a fair swop to me.

Miss B said...

heh. cosmic karma... always comes round and kicks us square in the ass.

Lad Litter said...

Hahahaha Fingers! Cap will never be really sure whether you are the other Dodge Aspen's owner or not.
I once saw a car I'd owned when I was 18 while out spliffing along the highway with a mate. We followed that 1963 VW Beetle, pulled up alongside ... and there was my younger self driving it! Cue Twilight Zone theme...

Gorilla Bananas said...

Boy, I'd like to have seen the face of that car owner on seeing the new cap. He probably became a born again Christian. When he dies he'll tell Jesus it was all because of the gas cap, and Jesus will have to explain that it wasn't him. It's a pity the car owner wasn't Elvis.

Ms Smack said...

That story has everything a story needs. Good company, awesome sounds, organic connections, great old car, good old dad, humour and a happy ending with a profound message!

jungle jane said...

Hahahah actually that happened to me a couple of years ago. I owned a butch Ducati Monster 750 (its a motorbike, dumbarse) which had a very expensive bike cover. The cover was stolen one night much to my disgust and because it was so expensive i didn't replace it straight off.

Imagine my surprise when the cover was returned to me one week later with a six pack of beer under it...i still have no idea who did it and why.

unique_stephen said...

thanks captn' I laughed so hard i couldn't keep my farts in.

Helen said...

Great story, I'm with Ms. Smack on that one. all the proper elements right there... At a Pink Floyd concert in '94, I became nearly hysterical because one of the lasers kept dripping on me. Aaah the good old days...

mist1 said...

I know nothing of cars. What does yanking a rag out of a gas hole have to do with automobiles?

Erica Ann Putis said...

I once made a Flavor-Flave necklace but with a gas cap instead of a clock and I wore it religiously. Ok... I'm lying. I never did that... But if I thought of doing that back in my pot smoking days I would have been the coolest girl in school.

jali said...

I've lost gas caps at certain gas stations (probably because I prefer flirting with cute guys to gas pumping, and I get distracted if cute guys are flirting with me, and leave the cap on top of the pump and drive off) and I've found them at other stations.


Zoning Out Again said...

DAMN YOU FINGERS! You stole my comment! So There. Now Captain is even with you at my expense! I've got your back Cappy! :0*

Shelly Rayedeane said...

Wow. What a generous pot-smokin' man. I would have kept the new gas cap for myself and given them back their old one.

Captain Smack said...

Well, that explains the blow up doll in the back seat, then. First time I ever saw a blowup doll that resembled a 10 year old boy.

Mr. Knudsen:
Hey now, that old Aspen was a fine machine. Probably got about 12 miles per gallon, but still.

Miss B:
Karma and chance have tag-teamed my ass many times. This one had a nice ending, but sometimes it's absolutely brutal.

Lad Litter:
You should of got out and punched your younger self in the face for driving a 1963 VW Beetle and yelled "engines go in the front, not the back!"

Gorilla Bananas:
God, I would love to have seen that. I wonder how many times they told the story to their friends. Perhaps some day I will run across a blog telling the same story from the other side.

Ms Smack:
Doesn't it, though? And no one had to die, like in all those depressing Shakespeare stories. Kiss my ass, Shakespeare!

Jungle Jane:
That's awesome, Jane - but now I feel bad that we didn't at least leave a joint.

Unique Stephen:
You should not keep farts in anyway. Glad I could help you out with that.

I saw them once, too, and I think that sort of thing happens a lot at Floyd shows. What's bad is when the flying pig starts reading your mind and plotting to steal your underwear.

You're on the right track, Mist, just think of the gas cap as sort of like a butt plug for your car. Only you don't have to hide it when your parents visit.

Ridiculous neckwear aside, I find it hard to believe that you weren't the coolest girl in school, Erica. You must've been a late bloomer.

That's intriguing. My theory is that there are two Jalis, and you both keep losing and then finding each other's gas caps. Freaky.

You better be careful, Little Big Tits - when you start thinking like Fingers, it's time to talk to a therapist.

We may have been criminals, Shelly, but we're not monsters!

The Little Cheese said...

That's quite sweet. Maybe the owner had been a real bitch to her best friend that week, and when she made it up with her, she got a shiny new gas cap. Her WHOLE belief system might have changed and she might have dedicated the rest of her life to worthy causes.

Your actions may well have changed her life. Pat yourself on the back, Sir!

Shelly Rayedeane said...

Who are you callin' a monster, Mr. I fucked a cantaloupe man?

I have come to the conclusion that reading this blog is the best diet for a woman ever, as I will never look at food the same way again!!!!!!!!

Have you been pondering lately over which other foods I need to remove from my diet?

I've got a suggestion for you...

as my new doctor says I can't eat any bread....AND I LOVE BREAD GOD DAMNIT!!!!

So, can you go fuck some wonder bread and blog about it next??

Can you, huh, can you?

Every pound I lose, I am going to dedicate to you, Mr. Smackers :)

Captain Smack said...

Little Cheese:
I like to picture it that way myself. Then on the other hand, they may have had a lot of other surreal things happen that same day, and that was just the thing to push them over the edge of sanity, causing them to be hauled away in a straight jacket.

Oh Shelly, Shelly, Shelly... You're going about this diet thing all wrong, sweetheart. Remember the last bit of advice I gave you on a completely different matter? I told you should take ecstasy, remember? Well, I hate to sound like a broken record, but the same applies here as well. You need to get some glow-sticks and a pacifier, maybe one of those big fuzzy Dr. Seuss hats, and start hitting the clubs with all the ravers. Talk about an appetite suppressant. You'll be dropping pounds like nobody's bidniss.

Of course, that's my answer to everything. Post traumatic Stress Disorder? Ecstasy! Car trouble? Ecstasy! etc., etc.

And if that doesn't work, then I'll start banging loaves of bread and bagels, just for you.

Zoning Out Again said...

You like saying out loud the nickname you gave me every chance you can get dont'cha?
Sicko! :0)

Erica Ann Putis said...

You called Shelly "sweetheart" and I'm finding myself more than just a little jealous. And - yes... I was a late bloomer... I didn't get boobs until college.

fingers said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
kiki said...

luck you rectified it man

else you would have gone to hell and suffered for all eternity


What a wonderful story teller you are but you must come from a small, 3 car shit town!
Ms. Smack- can oyu take your stalker back please? What have I told you about your unwanted scum?

The Boob Lady said...

Wow.. You never cease to amaze me Captain!! I love you.

Captain Smack said...

Little Big Tits:
You're only making it worse.

Relax, Honey Bunny. You have nothing to worry about, Darling, you know you're my Snuggly Wuggly - right, Puddin Pie?

Now listen hear, Mr Fingers - Some of these other blogs might tolerate you coming around and stinking up the place with your vile, crude sense of "humor", but The Captain runs a classy joint, as you can see, and doesn't put up with this crap. I understand that your hormones are probably raging, what with puberty finally kicking in and all, but if you're so eager to get into some beef war, why don't you go join the Insane Clown Posse, I hear they're looking for fresh meat.

Lucky for hell.

Well, not that small, but those old Aspens are few and far between. And is Ms Smack responsible for this recent infestation? I hope that's not true... I may have to change my answer to SMITE.

Boob Lady:
Oh great. Now I'm blushing. Stop doing that! (besides, we haven't even made it second base yet...)

morbid misanthrope said...

That's a very interesting story. Several years ago, my metalhead colleagues and I would cruise around town in a beat-up VW Vanagon with no gas cap, chugging Mickey's Brain Grenades and smoking cheap cigarettes.

The interesting thing is we also used a red rag as a makeshift gas cap. Eventually, one of us had the drunken idea to just get rid of the rag and write "Hey! No Gas Cap!" in red duct tape on the side of the van.

We became sort of well known in the area. The locals would say, "Hey! No gas cap!" and point at us as we went by. The drunken, glue-huffing bum population loved us. We were only men, but truly we had become like gods.

One fateful day, as surely as Icarus fell from the sky when he flew too close to the sun, we too were cast down from heaven in a steaming heap of hubris and irony. The very missing gas cap that helped propel us to stardom was also our undoing, when someone had the bright idea to put a lit cigarette in the unprotected gas tank.

The explosion was like something out of a Die Hard movie. I was the only person to survive the accident. And that’s how I learned to stop, drop, and roll.

fingers said...

Um...OK, Captain.
A cursory glance at the brief history between you and I seemed to indicate the 'vulgar' hostilities were initiated by you.
Of course that may just be me overreacting to your clasy jibes about my boyfriend's condom-clad bat in my ass, or the blow-up, little-boy doll in my car.
I've never understood subtle humour like that.
But, it's your blog, so your wish is granted....

Captain Smack said...

Awww, Fingers... don't get all sulky on me, kiddo, you know I'm just messin witcha (tussles hair).

Seriously though, It's true I did indeed start it - true true true - I just don't want to stay in a never-ending pot-shot war, that's all. This is kind of why. Anyway, you're welcome here, and we're cool, as far as I'm concerned.

Captain Smack said...

morbid misanthrope:
I totally remember you guys! You fellas were legendary. Perhaps you remember me? I was the bum who smelled like oysters and used an old shoe as a cellphone to talk to Frank Sinatra. I always wondered what happened to you guys... that big orange fireball was pretty cool.

fingers said...

Awwww, Captain...that's mighty white of you, bro.
I've written a special thank you note over on TWG.
Big hugs and kisses on all your pink bits.

Anonymous said...

Heh..have you ever thought that the guy WANTED to keep that ol' rag in there?! Like..that's why it was STILL in there?!

My friend drives around in her fairly new-ish car, with sticky tape keeping her petrol cap closed. =)

Chris Morris said...

You should have gotten high to a mix of Banjo Music and Japanese noise god Merzbow.

Miss B said...

heh... mr i fucked a cantaloupe man... hehehehehe....

Zoning Out Again said...

I guess it could be worse.
*D'oh!!! (slaps hand over mouth for fear of what you'll come up with next)*
"don't say worse, dummy!"

Malathionman said...

2 months and 180 joints? That's only 3 joints a day. Were you on a joint diet?

Todd said...

I bet that person who lost/gained the cap went insane. I know I would've.

The Boob Lady said...

Yet, that's because you're chicken. I told you that you could touch me there.

kiki said...

what if they'd sold the car in between you stealing the cap and replacing it???

what the hell would this new owner think?

Captain Smack said...

Ok, so we're done with all this negative stuff then, right? We can do what Steph said and hold hands and sing Kumbaya?

"ever thought that the guy WANTED to keep that ol' rag in there?!"

You're right. Now I feel bad.

That sounds... so... relaxing. I'll have to try that.

Miss B:
You're still laughing about that? That's ok, my friends are still laughing about it too.

You want a new nickname, is that it? I thought Little Big Tits was very nice.

I did not factor in bong or pipe hits hits.

Let's hope they have medication for GCRD (Gas Cap Reappearance Disorder).

Boob Lady:
I'm not chicken, I'm just old fashion. And touch you where? Canada? I'm confused...

Very interesting angle, my furry, long-eared friend. I bet then they really would have been born again, as Gorilla Bananas suggested.

Zoning Out Again said...

Okay if you think it's "nice" then I'm not going to encourage you to find another "nice" nickname. :0)(God only knows what you might come up with).

Zoning Out Again said...

BTW I have a really boring post and you haven't been by to crap on it yet. Are you punishing me? *Pouty face* :0(

Miss B said...

now that implies 1) disbelief that I find that so funny and 2) i'm not one of your friends...


Anonymous said...


all i can is dumbass! why didn't you give them back their original gas cap instead of giving them the new and shiny one?

yes, i know, that wasn't a thought back then.

oh well. the owner of the car probably went WTF? both times.

Prunella Jones said...

Oh my God, that was you? Thanks for clearing up the mystery. I totally know the guy who owned that car. He was so happy about the sudden appearance of the gas cap that he went out to celebrate at IHOP. While eating a huge stack of Belgian waffles, he bit down on a rat that had a human finger in it's mouth. He sued the chain for millions and now lives in a mansion next door to PAris Hilton. You did a fine thing that night, my friend.

tfg said...

What a coincidence. I had the same thing happen with a kidney once. I'll bet that guy was suprised to wake up in the tub the second time.

Ms Smack said...

Prunella, your comment is hilarious!

Captain Smack said...

Don't get all pouty on me, now - you know I'll be over to give you a hard time ASAP. I'm just very busy... being a Captain is more than just wearing a funny hat, you know.

Miss B:
Great, now I've gone and upset Miss B. I must be on a roll or something. You know I think of you as more than a friend, Ms B! (whew, good save, huh?)

Pink Drama:
I like to think the owner went WTF the first time, but then went insane the second. That's my hope, anyway.

So my plan worked exactly as I intended. What can I say, I have a nack for these things.

That's awesome. I'll contact you if I ever need an organ, as it appears you know how to get them in and out.

Ms Smack:
Totally agree - Prunella always has awesome comments. Between her and Morbid Misanthrope, I believe they could make a blog with just their comments.

Miss B said...

*hand up* what-ever... I'll bet you comment that to all the girls...



Zoning Out Again said...

Who do you enjoy upsetting more? Me or miss b?

Oh, and you did lose your mind because you didn't leave your imaginary comment over at my place last night. Maybe it was your imaginary friend who left it?!
:0) get back over here and leave a real one Captain Diva!

Ms Smack said...

I just voted for you [again] and you're now in the lead! Goodluck

Crushed said...

One wonders if he even noticed his petrol cap had gone.

Small world, eh?

180 joints later- I suspect this an understatement. 2 months= 60 days.
180/60= 3 joints per day. At 19?

I suspect 500 joints later would be more accurate, Captain...

Ms Smack said...

Perhaps he tells this story to his kids as a demonstration about karma!

You just NEVER know!!

Steph said...

Someone could steal my whole car and I wouldn't notice.....oh wait, that already happened. The police called me and told me they found my car two suburbs over from where I lived.
I was like "Whaaaaat. How did it get there?"

It would have been nice if whoever stole it had replaced it with a Ferrari or somethin'.

Freya Speaks said...

Great post Cap't-nice to see you are pulling them in:)

Zoning Out Again said...

Even though I should have been left feeling highly unsatisfied with that pre-mature comment... surprisingly I was deeply fulfilled!
You didn't stay awake to cuddle afterward so you owe me another "visit"!

I painted your toenails hot pink while you slept. Didn't you notice? :0)

Captain Smack said...

Miss B:
Ahh, 'tell it to the hand', huh? I love it.

It's not a contest, now - I like upsetting you both equally - just in different way.

And yes, I did notice the pink toenails. Thanks for that, but I normally prefer green polish, just so you know.

Ms Smack:
Why, thank you ma'am - I'm voting for you too. Btw, I looked at all of the other blogs in "best layout" and you do have the best layout, by far.

Crushed by Ingsoc:
I was only counting joints, not bong hits or pipes, so you have to factor that in as well. And I believe that was the same summer I discovered the 'Gravity Bong', which would change the equation drastically.

Sorry about that, Steph, I was picking up some of that killer Oz weed, and I didn't want to use my own car. Things got hairy and I had to abandon it suddenly. I'll try to return it closer to your place next time.

Well, hello there, nice to see you again! (que the AC/DC song "Back in Black").

Zoning Out Again said...

I'll work on the polish color for next time! :0*

Ms Smack said...

*poke* I just voted again and now you're tying for first place with THREE OTHERS!

hey, thanks for the kind words about my layout.

that girl said...


Ariel the Thief said...

I was surprised your friend decided to keep the used gas cap and gave away the brand new shiny one but it sure gave an elegant end to the story.

very well written! :)

Anonymous said...


Captain Smack said...

Ok, then. Light green.

Ms Smack:
Ma'am, I've always admired your layout. (Did that sound like an innuendo?)

Hey, glad to see you drop by. And thankyou for respecting the rules, that's all I ask.

Well, we just wanted to be fair, and figured a new gas cap would be like the old gas cap plus interest.

I hear ya, man.

Anonymous said...

Aaaaahahaha! ah fuck that's funny! Well good on you guys for replacing theirs with the shiny new gas cap!!

Anonymous said...

Your very nice.... I like your blog

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About Me

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People often tell me that I look a lot like Jesus, so I always wear a Captain's hat so they can tell us apart. I also enjoy wearing robes and rockin' the tables.