Crappy grotty irritating nasty life. Things chug along nicely and then something annoying happens just over your left shoulder and you glance over to see what it is and BAM. Life derailed.
Ok, so I’m being melodramatic. It’s just a car. Only my car. Nothing majorly important, just my LIFE which will come to a STANDSTILL without my car! My poor car which is terminally kaput. Ol’ faithful. Sob.
(God I love hormones don’t you? LEAVE ME ALONE MY CAR IS BROKEN).
On the slightly more positive side. Hey! Guess what? I’m getting a new car!
Any recommendations? I shall tell you my requirements and you can tell me what you think.
1. It needs to have 7 seats
2. The three seat bench needs to be at the back not in the middle.
3. It needs sliding doors.
4. Ideally, it needs to be made in the States by a company called Chrysler.
What’s that? A Voyager? Why yes, I rather thought so too! Except I have one of those and now it’s BROKEN.
After the fabulous party this weekend, this is such a downer. (The party which, depending on where you read this, is making you either nod sagely and say “Yeah, man, that was a BLAST” or leave you are scratching your heads and going “Huh? Party? "I wasn’t invited to a party.” Because I play favourites with Blog entries too and some of them stay on Blogspot alone.)
I want my CAR… wail, sniff, stomp!