The story of how my brother fixed my car

I've decided to start 'blogging'.

At first I was like, "Oh no! What will I write?" but then I realized that no one was gonna read any of my blogs anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

So, I'm now going to write about the time my brother tried to fix my car.

I loaned my car to my brother back in July of 2006. His car had died and he had no way to get to work. I felt sorry for him, and as I do not work the morning shift, and I was just taking one class over the summer, which was no big deal, I chose to loan him my car.

Anyway, Josh drove my car for a week until it died.

First, he informed me that it died because it had bad gas in it. So, he put a fuel additive in the gas. That didn't help, so then he changed the fuel filter. The car started running a little, but it still ran very badly.

So then, it was determined that something called the 'crank sensor' must have gone bad. And so, my brother and his good friend Joe, decided that they should fix the crank sensor.

So, they took off the right front tire, then removed all sorts of important pieces of the engine, and then they finally got to this 'crank sensor'.

Josh told Joe to screw the thing out, which Joe thought meant, "Break that sucker into two equal pieces", because that is what Joe did.

After having broken the crank sensor into two equal pieces, they were then forced to drill and tap the remaining piece of the crank sensor from out of the engine. Once that was done, they were jacking the car up so that they could put the right tire back on , when Josh says that he told Joe to make sure that the jack wasn't under the oil pan. Joe understood Josh to mean, "Make sure that the jack is under the oil pan" because Joe jacked the car up with the jack under the oil pan, thus cracking the oil pan wide open.

By now it was September and the leaves were turning brown, and I had to hitch rides from my family and borrow my friends van to get to school.

Josh and Joe realized that there was still a problem with the car, and so they concluded that the trouble really must be with something called the 'catalatic converter". This was the trouble with the car, and they were sure of it. And so, they went out and bought a new catalatic converter, put it on my vehicle, drove the car over to my house under the cover of darkness, and left it there.

I was excited when I saw it in the morning, only to find, when I test drove it, that black smoke came billowing into the cab. I then dropped my car back off at Josh's house, said some mean words, and walked home. This was in October, and it was getting a bit cold.

By mid November, my mother got into the act, and she , Josh and Joe all determined that what was really wrong with my car was the coil pack. So, they went out and bought a brand new coil pack and changed it out, only to discover that that didn't help my car to run any better.

By this time, I was willing to pay a certified mechanic to fix my car, but my family took this to mean that I didn't believe in them, and they informed me that the very suggestion of my taking the car in to have it fixed by a professional hurt their feelings.

Instead, they went out and bought a pair of 'boots' for my car. Which promptly melted. I guess. So then they bought another pair. Then they investigated the trouble with the spark plugs. It seems one blew right of the engine while they were investigating the situation, and they found it later on the lawn, burnt black.

By now, it was the end of November, and I was still driving my friend's van, or sometimes, I'd drive my mother's car to school.

By December they decided that the best thing to do in order to fix the exhaust and the leaking oil pan on my car was to patch them with some sort of bondo like glue.

After they had patched the holes, they invited me over to come and get my car, which ran beautifully for 25 feet, before the glue blew out of the hole in the exhaust and I left, again disgusted.

This was when I began making desperate phone calls to mechanics who work in my area, telling the story of what was happening to my car. My brother found out that I had making these phone calls, and he got angry because his feelings were hurt, so he buckled down, and decided to FIX MY CAR.

By the end of January they had hung a brand new exhaust on my car with coat hangers. After which, they then changed the starter on my vehicle. Then, they decided to get to work fixing the leak in the oil pan. This they sottered, I guess. Then they called me and had me come and test drive my vehicle.

The date was March 29th, 2007. I drove my car around while they followed me in my borrowed van, until they flagged me to pull over because they said they saw sparks. They then rehung the exhaust.---On April 22, 2007 my car was returned to me 10 months after it was broken, and running like a dream.

Almost everything on my car had been replaced, and it purred like a kitten. I was also given an itemized bill of all of the parts my family had purchased while attempting to fix my car. It seems that they had charged most of the parts to my Grandmother's credit card, and I now own her $558.23

I have to check the oil every day on account of the fact that the oil pan has been patched.

Unfortunately while I was out checking the oil yesterday, the oil has appeared to have taken on the same color and consistency of butter. I'm not sure what to do, in that I would like to very discreetly take my car to a certified mechanic without my family finding out about my actions. The buttery oil situation has me deeply worried, and I fear for my car.
Other than the current oil situation, however, my car runs better than it ever did before my brother broke it.
And that is the story of how my brother tried to fix my car.

Here is a copy of the itemized bill that was given to me:
Crank sensor
Oil
Exhaust
Catalatic converter
Coil pack module
8 bosch spark plugs
2 sets of boots
Oil filter
Exhaust Clamps
Oil pan gasket
Down spout
Exhaust hangers
Fuel treatment
Gasoline—5 gallons
Starter
Fuel filter
Plate lights
And a few tools to put the parts in with too.