The Girlfriend’s car is eating through an exorbitant amount of gas these days. Even taking into account this summer’s price hike at the pumps, the little red ’86 Mazda 323 seems to have sucked up at least three $40 refills in the last 1000 kms. I remarked the car probably has an eating disorder, or as the Girlfriend figures it, a tapeworm. Even better, she hypothesized, it’s pregnant and will soon give birth to a brand new car! For those who drive old beaters, this type of fantasizing is wonderfully addictive and quickly spirals out of orbit.
Note: I’ll expand more on my August activities later this week, including highlights from a day at the batting cages and water slides, camping among the history of Finnish Socialist Utopians, and this weekend’s incredible salmon fishing.
Cars eat gas
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