| Current mood: |  angry |
So much for writing about Williamsburg and whatnot... an interruption...
Awww. No.
Aww FUCK NO!!
My parents just drove up in a new minivan. OUR new minivan.
(Australian accent: Fucking minivans.)
So Percy, Dad's old car, finally died. Poor old Percy.
But they had to replace PERCY with a MINIVAN?!
My theory:
Minivan = suburbia soccer mom all the way. A.K.A. Towsonite.
Haha.
But seriously. We're a family of three. Four, if you count Missy. But being the weird dog she is, she throws up in moving vehicles, so she rarely goes on rides.
Missy's got the right idea. I'm going to barf in the backseat. Yum.
Minivan = almost evil.
Oh well, at least it's not an SUV, because SUV = evil.
Gerfumble... minivan. And I have no arm muscles, so I can't open minivan doors.
My head hurts. The minivan cursed me. Evil thing. I refuse to ride in it.
I will only ride in Grace, the golden beige colored Toyota Corolla. Grace is hot. Percy was hot.
This minivan, which does not deserve a name, is not hot.
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