Upon the initial glance, the burgundy paint looks quite eye-catching for a vehicle coming up on its thirteenth year. It is only upon closer inspection does one notice the dings and faded spots. Diabolical countenance. The way of the Devil. Perhaps the driving reason I named it Old Scratch.
It's not been in our possession a week and I've already slathered it with stickers. Such is the way. My Free Tibet one is the closest I really come to advertising my politics.
Sabina and I have spoken of one day getting what the matron calls a beep-beep jeep. Something to cover with stickers and take on the dusty outback roads of our Sahel and beyond whilst rocking out to some Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers. That's someday. For now, a Devilishly named Subaru will do quite nicely.
I read this the other day, secretly, in class while I waited for Dr. Netherton to come around and read my essay. (I sneak in a few posts here and there when I have time.) But the first time, I could have sworn it said Suburban, not Subaru.
ReplyDeleteThat's a totally different animal, isn't it?
You're sneaking my posts? That's oddly flattering.
DeleteYeh. Mileage, for one. Also, a Suburban would be able to get me to Waldorf by virtue of its ground clearance.