fussing & flapping in priestly black

So, I've thought my alternator was dead for, what, just over a month now. Today I finally resolved to replace the damn thing (yesterday being finals day was out of the question), and as I'm looking under the hood to see what tools I need (read: where's the alternator at?), I notice the little guy, way at the back, with no belt attached. Guess it disintegrated from pure rage, or sadness; that must have been that sound I was hearing for the last 3 months. Heh! hm. Anyway that's a filthy dirty job; both my arms came out covered in dense black slud. After intense scrubbing I've whittled it down to just the unavoidable goth-black fingernails. It'll do.

music: a Sting-ly medley