pope soap on a rope

Hey, I don't know what it means, either. It just came to mind as I left the county courthouse today, after a fruitless attempt to transfer my Swedemobile's title to the state of Washington.

You see, I paid the car off recently (early - happy dance break!) and got the title from Volvo. When I applied for the loan, hobbitt had to co-sign, since I don't actually have any income. Ahem. Somehow his name is on the title, though I registered the car here in my name only. I never saw the title and had no idea his name was on it. The licensing department here saw the title when it was faxed to them by Volvo, and they should have never issued my registration that way, but they did.

But make no mistake! These cars are both mine. His car is mine because my mother gave it to us when she found out she was dying, and to avoid having to pay a sales tax in New Joy Sea, it had to be titled to me. My car is mine because, well, because it is. I used my executor fee to pay for it. But I hadn't yet finished the estate. Hence, the loan.

None of this matters. We've given each other complete power-of-attorney. I could sell his body to medical researchers if I wanted to, and behind his back, to boot. Not that I would. And anyway, those papers were drawn up in New Joy Sea so they're not valid here anyway. I'm back to groveling for an allowance, and picking up pennies off the street.

Not really. Basically we have an understanding. What's his is mine and what's mine is mine.

So anyway, in order to transfer title of the Bjornbuggy, for which I have an abiding and unnatural love, and which is coming up on 30k miles, he has to come to the courthouse with me and either sign the transfer (along with me) or sign an affadavit of release.

What to do, what to do.

Well, for one thing, it's time to update those POA papers, what? And our wills. Want in?

You wish.