epilogue, epitaph, epithet

ultimately, i am a big fucking asshole.

the car formerly known as the interceptor now resides at a junkyard. n my neighbor was right. (though he was completely sorry, refused to say "i told you so" (despite me saying he could, as i was man enough to take it) and said he says that stuff and then hopes for the best because he knows i love the car.)

but let's be honest, o thou droogs and only friends, the beloved non-existent readers who have truly (apparently) become non-existent, when the shop called, the repair was much more expensive than expected, and would take four times as long as expected, and hey you know what? i like to think i am man enough to admit when i have had it; when my number is up.

going car shopping tomorrow, and no, i will not be looking at lincolns.

and furthermore, a simple little tagline: i'm a dick. well, sometimes. i try not to be, but like every other fucking homo sapien on the planet, i have my moments. i try to own em when i cotton to it. so this is your opportunity to say "fuck you, darth, ya cunt!"

thanks for playing along.

darth sardonic