Farewell my friend

I'm selling my car.

If anyone wants to purchase the one and only turquoise chariot of Mr. Puddle E. Glum, he is willing to make a good price. . .$2,900 in U.S. dollars, or $10,000 Canadian dollars, and I will even consider pesos and Euros. Gold bars would also be nice, as would stock in Berkshire-Hathaway.

I washed it today in 107 degree weather.

It took awhile as the coin exchanger only accepted ones and fives and I had two tens. I went to the dollar store, not exactly dressed for public appearances as I was wearing a wrinkly white tee-shirt and had not shaved.

"But is not this how most dollar store shoppers look?"

Good point, and quite true, nevertheless I hate the unkempt grunge wispy look. Naturally, one cannot waltz into the dollar store without buying something, so I bought a half-gallon of Sunny Delight even though it has been known to change your skin colour from off-white to a semi-jaundice mustard.

I washed the car. It was clean. It was dry. Then it began to sprinkle. . .and thunder. . .and lightning. . .and then the passenger door opened as I was leaving the car wash. . .and then the open passenger door would not shut. . .seriously. . .The Sunny Delight was cursed, I am sure. . .so back to the car wash I go.

To spend the next 20 minutes fiddling with an extremely greasy metal clip that allows one to shut passenger doors. . .on a 107 degree August day on a busy road in the bad section of town with homeless people staring at the sweaty white guy clearly breaking the rules of car washes everywhere in this great land of ours that clearly state,

"No mechanical work of any kind on the car wash premises."

Fortunately, the only other human there was the owner of the car wash giving me sinister looks.

Pics forthcoming.