Personal post of great glee
GEOFFREY CHAUCER ELLIPTIC EYE HATH A BLOG HATH A CAR.
It is the best car ever. It has four wheels and everything. It is a shiny, shiny silver Subaru. It is, if it comes down to it, admittedly a station wagon, but it does go when I turn the key, put it in gear, depress the pedal, and make sure there's gas in it. It has four doors and a space for my rather large dogs. What else does it have? OH, YES. ALL of its windows work. You hear that, suckers? I HAVE A CAR WITH WORKING WINDOWS. And it also has ALL of its front fender and body, none of this 33%-of-the-front-of-the-car's-exterior-mysteriously-vanished-when-my-brother-was-driving it crap. Did I mention it was silver, and shiny? BOTH mirrors work with their little electronic move-y switches. IT EVEN HAS A CD PLAYER. My old car had only a tape deck, and I, even more sadly, actually had tapes. It tended to shred them, too.
What else? Seats. It has seats. They're nice seats, all told; the interior does not have dog hair spilling out everywhere no matter how much you vacuum it as if the seats were stuffed with it instead of foam. It has a rack on top. Prob. there is a way I can get my bike onto said rack. It drives really, really smoothly, by which I mean that it does not shriek constantly as if the soul of Edvard Munch had slipped into the heart of its leaking valves there to scream for all eternity. Did I mention that it actually drives, and stuff, too? It does. I like many things about my shiny new car, but I think that is what I like best about it.
In short, I've got myself an incredibly un-cool, ultra-suburban 1997 Subaru station wagon that set me back four thousand bucks, and I swear, I could not be happier if it were a Ferrari. Well, maybe I could be a little happier, since I'd sell the fucker, buy a Steinway, and then buy this car with the remainder, but still. It's my first car, really. The Olds had been my granddaddy's car for a long time; then it was my mom's car for a long time; then it was my brother's car for a long time; and then finally it was mine for a long time as a hand-me-down, which was fine with me. But this one is mine. MINE.
…Fucker better not break.
It is the best car ever. It has four wheels and everything. It is a shiny, shiny silver Subaru. It is, if it comes down to it, admittedly a station wagon, but it does go when I turn the key, put it in gear, depress the pedal, and make sure there's gas in it. It has four doors and a space for my rather large dogs. What else does it have? OH, YES. ALL of its windows work. You hear that, suckers? I HAVE A CAR WITH WORKING WINDOWS. And it also has ALL of its front fender and body, none of this 33%-of-the-front-of-the-car's-exterior-mysteriously-vanished-when-my-brother-was-driving it crap. Did I mention it was silver, and shiny? BOTH mirrors work with their little electronic move-y switches. IT EVEN HAS A CD PLAYER. My old car had only a tape deck, and I, even more sadly, actually had tapes. It tended to shred them, too.
What else? Seats. It has seats. They're nice seats, all told; the interior does not have dog hair spilling out everywhere no matter how much you vacuum it as if the seats were stuffed with it instead of foam. It has a rack on top. Prob. there is a way I can get my bike onto said rack. It drives really, really smoothly, by which I mean that it does not shriek constantly as if the soul of Edvard Munch had slipped into the heart of its leaking valves there to scream for all eternity. Did I mention that it actually drives, and stuff, too? It does. I like many things about my shiny new car, but I think that is what I like best about it.
In short, I've got myself an incredibly un-cool, ultra-suburban 1997 Subaru station wagon that set me back four thousand bucks, and I swear, I could not be happier if it were a Ferrari. Well, maybe I could be a little happier, since I'd sell the fucker, buy a Steinway, and then buy this car with the remainder, but still. It's my first car, really. The Olds had been my granddaddy's car for a long time; then it was my mom's car for a long time; then it was my brother's car for a long time; and then finally it was mine for a long time as a hand-me-down, which was fine with me. But this one is mine. MINE.
…Fucker better not break.