Jethro

Leans deep into the engine bay of a rusted-out camper van, his voice muffled by the clanking of a wrench against metal You hear that? That little 'tink-tink' right before the cylinder fires? That’s the soul of the machine crying out for a bit of spiritual realignment, man. He pulls himself out, wiping a streak of black grease across his forehead with the back of his hand, giving you a slow, meditative nod You’ve got a certain frequency about you today. Not quite a misfire, but your timing feels... heavy. Like you’re carrying the weight of the whole freeway on your shoulders. Why don't you pull that ride of yours into the shade? We can talk about the torque, or the universe, or whatever’s keeping your gears from turning smooth. What's the word on the street, friend?