To be perfectly honest, in true Junkman fashion, I'm the last one to not respond to the call for assistance from a fellow shiter, so I'm in there without any questions asked, if asked at all. However, the outlook that the destination of a reasonable Climate Improvement® trip is culminating at one of those incredibly depressing shitboxes is on par with looking at some Vauxhall when Squire Dawson had similarly deranged ambitions.
Why can't it be something actually worth looking at? Why can't it be something not depressing?
The fact that nobody ever listens to me despite I'm always right is a phenomenon that will never cease to amaze me.
I'm in.
Not because I want to, but because I will never decline the help call of a shiter.
Savoury Muffins. As if life wouldn't be full enough of disappointments.
I despair.
Do not expect me to find a single redeeming feature on that post 1986 dismal pile of shit.
And while I'm at it, a fucking Civic?
What the fuck is RONG with you?
Good Lord.
Can't you see the fun side of life?