Here's a tip, World: Your car doesn't have a sense of humor. Your car isn't political. Your car hates you. Why? Because your car was crafted out of cold steal and mechanical pieces to serve the purpose of getting you from one place to another. That's all. It wasn't created to serve as your "opinion mobile." Think of it this way--the person behind you doesn't know you. Apparently though you want us to know a little bit about you. Are these little sayings and cutesy shitoffs really what you want us to think? If my whole existence was summed up as "My Boss is a Jewish Carpenter" I would shoot myself. And just so you know, my boss is a Doug.
2 comments:
It's ok; you won't hate this until next year.
p.s. I like your blog.
a stumbler
Nice post...
I understand how you feel..
Don't mind about these freaky thing
They won't stop
p.s Cool stuff here!
Keep on Loving and Hating!
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