Veterans of the field know what “backhoe fade” means, but when your landlord sends somebody in to fix your heater and you come home to find your server as dead as a stump with the CD tray sticking half out, I think that is a call for novel terminology.
Arlene was here when I got home, so I’ve got to put my sincere and reasonable desire to rip somebody’s asshole out through their eyesocket aside so that I can cook her a nice dinner. Which probably means she’s a good influence.
Clutch won’t even power up. And the heater isn’t even fixed. God damn.