My Car is Dead!

Now that I have a wife, I no longer need a car.  So say the Gods of Universal Justice.  The engine of my once trusty Escort Wagon is now exploded.  Too expensive to fix.  No car for Brent.  Learning to drive Chelsey’s Plymouth Breeze.  It’s a stick shift.  Will I be able to pull it off?  Probably, but I will no doubt un-learn some other ability.  Like cursive.

10 thoughts on “My Car is Dead!”

  1. I can’t remember the last time I wrote something in cursive. I can’t even sign my name anymore.

    Speaking of Cursive, I checked out their album, since they’re from Omaha and all and I now know where Happy Hollow is. Are they 16 year olds?

  2. It’s easy. If Buzz can do it, you can do it. I would avoid red lights on top of hills though, if you can.

    Kent and I are going to see Sufjan Stevens tonight at the Fox Theater. These are days I wish you lived here Brent. So I wouldn’t have to go.

  3. Thanks for the tips Paul.

    Leslie, I bet you enjoy My Brightest Diamond if she opens for Sufjan.

  4. Kent said the negative stuff about her first. I had nothing but positive, pretty things to say about her.

    The concert was fun, but the wings got old.

  5. What I said was “I think this is what you get when Enya really rocks out.” Is that positive or negative?

  6. It always makes me double take when I hear Americans fretting about manual gearboxes. Over here it’s a natural thing as automatics are fairly rare by comparison. I’m the only person I know who actually drives one. They’re kind of looked down upon as being a bit backwards.

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