My fucking car.

It fails its warrant of fitness for a little rust under the bonnet.

Repaired yesterday. $200.

*Flush.*

Then this morning it fails to start.
New battery: $135.

Then I somehow lose the oil cap.
$30.

(Why does it feel like the next sentence is meant to go "something-something: priceless"…?)

Perhaps it’s just my car’s neglected way of reminding me that it’s still there.

But all it’s succeeding in doing is reminding me that it’s still there.

And why I hate cars.

And Eskimos.