Car

A car is a great thing. Most people don't understand this, but then again most people are stupid. More power at your control that 99% of humanity ever had. Do something with that power. Drive fast. Make the car your steel horse. Go out and drive for the hell of it, not because you need milk or have to get to work or some other stupid thing like that. Enjoy your dominance over fire, inertia, gravity, and the elements.

These are the cars I have owned (in chronologial order) since I was 16 years old.

1. 1959 Chevrolet El Camino
2. 1968 Chevrolet Impala
3. 1965 Plymouth Fury
4. 1971 Pontiac Ventura
5. 1959 Chevrolet Bel Air
6. 1978 Honda Accord
7. 1987 BMW 535is
8. 1990 BMW 325i
9. 1996 Audi Cabriolet
10. 1999 Jeep Grand Cherokee

Car. Overrated. Never got laid because of my car, though I know people who got laid because of their cars. I had a pretty good car once and I wrecked it. Now I drive a nondescript car, and only when I have to.

Disgusting, inefficient, but oh so convenient.
I crashed my car into a ditch while trying to avoid a dead racoon. Apparently I hit the racoon anyway. Because of this fact, my insurance didn't go up. I lost less than a drop of blood. »Car accidents build character!«

a sidecar is a drink,
pink lady, mississippi mud,
sour,

what is nondescript in this train?

Donald Duck smashed his new car. This was a Zoom V-8.

I don't consider myself a »car guy«, but I love my car. Not passionate love, but a kind of profound respect and admiration. My car is strong. It carried me, and lots of other stuff, around. My car has locks that make me feel safe and comfy seats that make me comfortable.

I fill it with gas, it fills me with happiness.

people seem to think of the inside of a car as an extension of their home. once they get inside, safely enclosed in their private bubble, they forget the rest of us can still see them.