Shed a sad, sad tear for the death of the land yacht.
A year ago, I made a silly, whim purchase. It was a deal, as they say, too good to pass up, on a vehicle I loved, but never really felt good about.
Since buying my Titan, I’ve loved driving it, hated parking it, enjoyed it’s roominess, made great use of it’s functionality for hauling, and increasingly, raged at it in gas stations.
My friends asked to borrow it, asked me to help them move, and lambasted me over global warming, the death of polar bears, melting ice caps.
And I’ve never quite dealt with it being, you know, tan.
Today I gave up. Dinosaurs, inevitably, must seek tar pits.
You’re only as young as you drive, and my new ride is pretty fucking young.