It’s a 5 speed tho. Toad doesn’t know how to drive a manual. So me and Marla hopped in one morning and drove around the block. I must have stalled it out at least a dozen times before Ian showed up and rode with me out to Covington Pike for a meeting. We only stalled twice on that.
After i realized that the floormat was catching on my Doc Martins and i ripped that fucker out, it was all gravey. I’m almost leet with manual and i actually own a car that rules.
It’s a weird feeling tho. I’ve always been a Fightclub kinda person or at least tried to keep that frame of mind. Physical possesions are for the weak. I know this, anyone with half a mind knows this, memories are better then anything that can be taken away. So it feels so weird to walk outside and see a l33t car and know it’s mine. Weird shit. I think i just enjoy driving it so much that i feel guilty
I feel sorry for all the people in Memphis who were honking at me stop lights when i try to jam it into 1st but they can go fuck themselves. When you see a car in front of you stall, you don’t honk. Honking makes them more nervous, more pissed and more likely to put the car in park and get out and beat you to death.
I’m not sure if i should title it as a Horemobile yet tho. Is it a Horemobile when i put the sticker on it? Is it a Horemobile or should i make up a new name for it? Blah oh well.
I cry, when angels deserve to be owned.
Comments are closed.