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I hate it when people get near my PT Cruiser. It’s like they have no regard for a man’s property. The teenagers are the worst. They’re always so impressed with my car that they give me complimentary detailing services, like new spray paint paint jobs, key scratchings, and taillight smashings. Those are the worst, because then I have to tip them. It’s like a homeless window washer–they guilt me into it. At least somebody appreciates the PT Cruise, though. My mom hates it. She said I’d “never get laid with this piece of garbage.” She’s right so far, but I know I’ll pull through and eventually prove her wrong.
It is because of my own experiences that I understand and respect Marshawn Lynch’s method of using velvet ropes to section off his car when it’s parked on the street. I assume he keeps the velvet ropes in his car and takes them out whenever he parks.
If I’m getting this much unwanted attention with a PT Cruiser, I don’t even want to know how much his Lambo receives.