A Tale of Betrayal

Alright ladies and gentlemen, you might as well sit down because this one is a doozy. Not sure if thats a word or even how to spell it, but it is so just deal with it. Anyways, this is the story of how I drove 300 miles across Iowa in the Miata and all of the interesting things that happened to me along the way.

Here we go! I was heading to a small town in Iowa to meet up with a friend and go to some concerts over a weekend during mid July. Thinking a road trip sounded like fun, I told my parents that I was going to take my much more reliable car and that I'd see them in a few days. I woke up early and decided that driving the Miata sounded like much more fun, especially with the added danger that I might break down, because whats life without a little risk of a catastrophic breakdown between two cornfields, miles away from anyone I know who can come help me? See? Glad you guys understand.

Anyways, I left at like 5am because I wanted to get there early, and because I'm an idiot, I put the top down because how cold could it be? It's summer! So, I proceeded down Interstate 80, and I'll be honest, it was freaking cold. Like freezing cold. Like if I could go back in time, I'd smack myself, put the top up, and given myself some coffee because oh god things were gonna get worse. But I can't go back in time, at least not yet that is...

So there I am, freezing to death when I finally decide that it's time for the top to go up, and that I'm gonna wuss out. Out of nowhere, this car comes up beside me and the driver throws his/her (I was tired and couldn't really tell/what's a girl?) fist in the air. Now, being 20 and damn proud of my car, I take this as a sign of "Yeah! Go you!" and I told myself that I couldn't let Mr./Ms. Nissan down, and so I continued to power through Council Bluffs doing my best impression of a popsicle. A few more miles down the road I began to wonder why i couldn't move my fingers very well anymore, so I finally stopped at an exit and put the top up. I gave in, and if you are reading this right now, then I apologize my genderless Nissan driving friend. I failed you.

Now, putting the top up may have saved me from the fabled July frostbite, but it also set me up for disaster. See, I put the top up and immediately felt great about my new ability to move my fingers again and also about how warm it finally was, but the warm cabin of the Miata would come to betray me very soon. Now I don't remember the time when I first began to fall asleep at the wheel, but I can only assume it was around still-way-too-early-to-be-driving-anything-much-less-a-craigslist-car o'clock. So I started nodding off and had a couple of wake up calls when I drove over the rumble strips at the side of the road, but nothing major. This is where the coffee I mentioned earlier makes its comeback. The next time I nodded off, I awoke and found that I was heading straight for a big-ass orange construction cone, and not one of the tiny orange triangle ones, it was one of the tall skinny ones. I thank god everyday that it wasn't one of the huge cylinder ones that are bigger than most children, because someone would have had to pick up pieces of Miata bumper for days at least.

Thanks to my excellent Formula 1 driver racing reflexes, I managed to only run over the base of the cone, but it still freaked me out beyond all reason. I stopped by the side of the road, checked out my tire and noticed that it looked like it still had the same amount of air in it, did some jumping jacks to wake up, and went on with my life. I do not know about the condition of the cone, but I hope it was sent straight to traffic cone hell, where it belongs. Miata - 1    Cone - 0

I made it to Ames! Woo! I reached my halfway point and decided it was time for some breakfast, and there was only one thing that could quench my hunger. Cini-Mini's. I got off of the interstate and the Miata decided it hated me for my traffic cone abuse and started screeching again. I then began to A) curse its name and B) ask why it was doing this to me again. I pulled into the Burger King parking lot, told the car I would deal with it after a nice breakfast, and headed on in. I go up to the counter to order and the lady at the front tells me thAT BURGER KING DOESNT CARRY CINI-MINI'S ANYMORE. She happily offers me some Cinnabon crap, but I'm not interested because she has ruined my morning and possibly even my life. I ordered some hash browns and headed out to the car. I start it up and it screeches, so I open the hood to discover the issue. The engine is shaking a bit more violently than usual, but using my amazing mechanical ability, I decide that its probably still safe to drive and will still get me to my friends house, so I threw deuces to the Burger King manager that still haunts my dreams. Oh, I also put the top down in the BK parking lot because convertible.

The screeching stopped soon after I merge onto the interstate, and I decide to dig into my hash browns. Now, not only did this lady crush my soul with news of the death of a national hero (Cini-Mini), but she also decides that she's gonna make me some extremely mediocre hash browns apparently. Nice touch. Burger King's whole "Have It Your Way" motto is a lie, because my way included Cini-Mini's and tasty hash browns. Kick a man while he's down I guess.

Anyways, things go right for me for awhile and I begin to feel the hope. Maybe, just maybe I'll get there. I notice that my gas tank is almost empty, so I stop in Waterloo, IA for some gas. I exit the interstate and can either turn left where there is a gas station in view, or turn right where there is a sign claiming that there is a gas station just down the road. It's a red light and I don't want to wait, so i turn right, and guess what? There's no gas station. It's all just a sick twisted lie. So there I was, speeding through Waterloo trying to find a gas station because I am on E and the Miata starts screeching again. At this point I accept the fact that I probably don't make it to the end of the road trip when suddenly a green dinosaur appears in the distance. Sinclair. A gas station known for being there when you need it most. Unlike the earlier sign which betrayed me, this sign is no lie and I stop and fill up. I call my friend because she was going to give me faster directions from Waterloo, and she asks where exactly I am in Waterloo. Honestly, I have no clue, and I realize that its a good thing I live in this century where we have phones with GPS, because I got lost trying to find gas. She laughs at me and I use my GPS which gets me back to the interstate.

Things go well for awhile again, until I am told by my GPS to take an exit. Normally this would be fine, but the exit numbers are weird and they don't make sense and I miss my exit. I'm killin' it. I continue to the next exit and then the GPS tells me to take some back roads through small towns. I decide "F*** it, we'll do it live" and follow the GPS' orders. The GPS, like many other things that morning, betrayed me. It takes me to a small town in which the road is down to one lane going both ways because of construction, so I have to sit and wait around for all the other cars to come and go. Normally not much of an issue, but while I'm sitting in line, the Miata decides to start screeching again. At this point I've had enough and I just turn the car off and wonder if anyone in this town is willing to trade for a rusty 90's convertible... I eventually get my turn to go and I get stuck behind a Buick going about 10mph. "Okay, this is fine, I can deal with this"I tell myself. The Buick then drives over the newly laid blacktop and tries to turn onto a street with a huge construction sign saying "ROAD CLOSED". I decide that this moment is too awkward and horrible to watch, so I speed around and the GPS then tells me that I have to drive across the fresh blacktop. Using my newly discovered life motto of "Ride or Die", I speed across the blacktop and make my way through the rest of the town.

Against all odds, I finally made it to my friends house in the Miata. 5ish hours, 300 miles and multiple betrayals later, I did it. But then it hits me.

I still have to make it back home at some point. But I know I'll make it, because the Miata always makes it.

Thanks for reading!

A Year-ish In Review

So it's been a little bit of time since I last wrote for you guys, and I'd like to blame that solely on the fact that it seems I actually have a life outside of this blog, which honestly, who would've thought that? Either way, I am back and there is a very specific reason for that, and that is to celebrate an anniversary, because there are some things you have to take time to remember, like your first car, America's birthday, or that one girl you tried to talk to once but actually ended up just mumbling in front of her because girls are scary.

I'm off topic again, but we are gathered here today to celebrate the 1 year-ish anniversary of my ownership of the Craigslist Miata, which you may or may have not heard about at some point because I apparently never shut up about it. Sorry bout it. Today I am going to review my last year of ownership and all the interesting events that came with it. Oh, fun fact, this one is gonna be a little long so bear with me.

Why don't we start at the beginning? It's like mid-July and after just barely missing out on buying an old British convertible, my friend found the Miata on Craigslist in Missouri, or Kansas, honestly I cant really remember but all I know is that it was like a 3-ish hour drive away from Omaha. I decided to take a trip down there with him and found myself coming back at 1 in the morning with a white convertible and the biggest smile on my face. 

The next day I come outside, get in, and scream through the streets of Omaha at 45mph because thats the speed limit and I never break that (Hello cops), but also because the Miata isn't very fast and has about the same amount of horsepower as my blender. In other words it's a bit slow.

I believe the next issue came about a few days later when I found oil where there most definitely shouldn't be oil and I had a heart attack because I thought the car was done for and my 1 week love affair was already over. Luckily it was nothing major and through the use of a McDonalds straw and a brake bleeder the oil was contained. But there was no way I was getting off that easy, because it kept going until it sheared a bolt that attached the alternator to the car. If you don't know what an alternator is just imagine something extremely important that a car cant really live without. My car tried to rid itself of that. Maybe it hates me or something.

Flash-forward to some month later in the year and I'm working at your friendly neighborhood Family Video until about 12:15am. It had apparently been snowing while I was at work and I'll let in you in on a little secret here readers, a light, rear-wheel drive car is not going to do well in the snow. So I'm driving along and guess what? I figure out that my car is hiding a secret from me. It doesn't have anti-lock brakes. So there I was, sliding through an intersection at 12:20am in a snow covered convertible in probably mid-October. Go me, and go Miata.

S/O to my grandfather for letting me store the Miata in his garage for the winter. Also, S/O to his garage floor for taking the brunt of a small oil leak for a few months. You the real MVP.

During those winter months I decided to tackle the issue of the car's exhaust, so I bought a new one off of Ebay and that was pretty much that for awhile. Winter came and went as did my dreams of a successful car blog. Moving on!

SPRING BREAK 2014 - A toddler gave me a stomach virus that laid me up for 2 days and the exhaust I bought off of Ebay was A) massive and B) did not fit correctly so I had to take it to a muffler shop to have them weld on an extra inch of metal. Thankfully it now fits and looks and sounds ridiculous. Go me. Oh! I almost forgot! My brake caliper had seized up earlier but by spring break you could clearly tell that there was some metal grinding going on back there. So I basically deafened everyone when I was on the throttle and made everyone cringe when I braked. I didn't have enough time to tackle that during break so I decided to wait until summer.

Summer break, that magical time of year when seventh graders go to the pool and you can just feel the puberty-filled tension in the air. I, however, spent about zero time at the pool before I left the country because apparently my life is never easy and I had to replace a brake caliper. After buying/ordering two/three different calipers, my friend Devin (who probably deserves a full name S/O at this point for all his help) and I finally made a franken-caliper out of two of them and it works and to this day I'm still astounded by that fact.

Time for another S/O to the people I spent most of my summer with in Spain! Spain was amazing and so were the people I met, and I urge anyone who has the opportunity to study abroad because you will not regret it. Now, I was unable to drive the Miata most of the summer because I was studying abroad, but as soon as I was home, I busted it out again to tear through the streets of Omaha at an extremely reasonable and legal speed (Hello again Mr. Cop). I have taken a few road trips in the car since I've been home and those are stories for another day, but suffice it to say it was very stressful and did not go as smoothly as I had planned, but the point is that it made it.

Done! Here we are, a year later and probably around 3000ish miles and the little white POS that could is still running. It's had some issues along the way and there have been a few times where I cursed its name and prayed that god would smite it along with the man from Missouri/Kansas that sold it to me. Overall however, it's been one hell of an adventure.

Instead of leaving you guys with a lesson, today I'd like to finish this post by thanking anyone and everyone who has had anything to do with the Miata in the last year. Whether you've helped put it back together, seen it fall apart, ridden in it or even just heard me rant about it for hours on end, I'd like to think that you've all been a part of this adventure with me. So thanks again, and here's to another successful year!

How To Impress And Attract Women

Today, we are going to take a little trip through time, back to when ya boi was a little younger and had about 0 luck talking to those things that look a little different, girls.

Girls are a little different than boys, and it's not really my job to tell you how, so I'll leave that to your parents, or in my case, the public school system. But guys, trust me, someday something will happen and you'll want to impress them, and I have the one thing that will make sure she will fall for you.

I'm talking about stick shifts.

Thats right! The manual car! The transmission that is possibly, maybe, I'm not 100% sure so don't quote me, on it's way out the door is the key to impressing the girl of your dreams.

For those of you who don't know what a stick is, you can:

A. Stop reading and go away.
B. Look up what it is and come back and continue reading.

Alright, serious time. A stick is a car with a transmission that you shift yourself, the car doesn't do it for you. You select the gears and change them all on your own. It's honestly so much fun and driving an automatic is boring compared to a stick. I urge everyone to go learn and keep the manual transmission alive. The only issue is that manual cars are becoming rarer in our world because some people don't like them because I have no idea. They're wrong though, and that's what counts.

Now, it's time for why you need to learn stick. Like I said earlier, it will impress the ladies. I know you're sitting there thinking "How?! How does that work?! Share your glorious knowledge Cody!".

The truth is that I don't know how or why it works, but all I can tell you is that when I started driving a stick, I went from a kid who couldn't talk to girls, to a man who ran into a door after his first kiss. Thats progress ladies and gentlemen.

It's time to round this all up!

All you guys need to do is rip a rad 4-3 downshift while an attractive woman is in the passenger seat.

Then watch the magic happen.

Thanks for reading!

The Unicorn

Basically, I've been in Spain for the last four weeks tearin' it up and what not, and I've seen some pretty interesting coches, or "cars" for those of you who are uncultured philistines. A few Ferrari's here and there and maybe even a Range Rover or two, but nothing that really made me get on my knees and thank god for that blessed moment of pure automotive happiness.

Until yesterday. Yesterday, I saw it. The unicorn. MY unicorn.

But first, a quick intro into how I found it. I took a trip to Barcelona with a group of friends, and we have been traveling around the city looking at the sites, such as the Sagrada Familia, Olympic Stadium, and god willing, a Spanish version of the world famous golden arches positioned strategically close to a nude beach. I mean what more can you ask for?

While taking a taxi to a fountain show late at night, I happened to notice a car up ahead that was sitting pretty low to the ground. It peaked my interest for a second, but I figured it was just some basic vehicle, like a Peugeot or some pedestrian Ferrari. As I got closer, I noticed the taillights, and thats when it hit me. This is the night I will remember forever, because there, on the streets of Barcelona, was my unicorn.

The DeLorean.

It was beautiful and every promise made by Back To The Future was finally fulfilled. The gull-wing doors looked amazing and all I wanted to do was open the door and slam it into fourth gear. I mean, I could've probably hit 88mph and went back in time to stop my past self from acting foolish in front of all those girls back in high school. Naïve Cody, as I like to call him, really needed some help back then.

So basically the entire taxi ride consisted of two American's freaking out in the back of a taxi over a car. I've left a good impression on that Spanish taxi driver, who will think from now on that all American's love DeLorean's. But if we're being honest, who doesn't?

Anyways! Usually I leave you guys with some sort of lesson that may or may not apply to the story I told earlier, and today isn't really going to be all that different.

I urge the 6 people that aren't my mom reading this blog to study abroad, because maybe, just maybe, you'll find your unicorn as well. Also, nude beaches.

Thanks for reading!

Gone too soon?

If you are looking for an American hero, you can find one sitting at home during this World Cup in Landon Donovan. Donovan was passed over for the 2014 World Cup and I was a bit crushed because I was a big fan of his and I was extremely excited to watch him play. Honestly, I cried.

Now I won't claim to know that much about soccer or "fùtbol" as those people across the way call it, but it still broke my heart, much like the time Donovan broke every Algerian's heart in the 2010 World Cup. Does it still taste bad 4 years later Algeria?

However, I do claim to know a little bit about cars, such as the fact that if you actually want to get where you're going, you probably shouldn't buy a 42 year old, barely running sports car from a defunct dealership for $1000. Knowing that, I feel comfortable in saying that although they were left behind much like the American hero, Pontiac deserved to live on.

Flashback to 2009ish (because I'm too lazy to look up the actual year) when the auto industry was pretty much as broke as I am. General Motors had quite a few brands under their umbrella, and decided it was time to kill a few of them off in order to actually keep the company afloat. One of the brands that died was Pontiac.

At some point in its life, Pontiac was respected as a car brand and built some classic cars such as the GTO, the Camaro clone known as the Firebird, and of course, the car that could've changed everything but didn't, the Fiero. I'm honestly still bitter about the Fiero, but that's another story for another day. The problem with Pontiac is that they started making cars that were pretty much garbage. I mean I've driven a ~2003 Grand Am and I felt like it was going to fall apart and explode at any second. The radio also had this weird habit of refusing to lower it's volume when you turned the knob because I guess it really wanted every other person within a 2 mile radius to hear One Direction's "That's What Makes You Beautiful" (aka the jam) mixed in with some very audible cursing.

Around the time that Pontiac died however, they had a lot of future potential. Even though it was just a Holden, the  Pontiac G8 could've lived on along with a G6 replacement. A friend of mine believes that Pontiac could have survived as a sporty brand for GM and I honestly believe that is a good idea. Growing up, Pontiac cars always looked sporty but in reality they were merely Chevy's with a body kit and a hood scoop. If they had given them a little more power and built them with some care and quality, maybe Pontiac would've made it, and some 20 year old college kid wouldn't be writing a eulogy for them on his stupid blog. Its also possible that it would've all failed miserably and that GM would've crashed and burned.

But it's like I always say, you gotta risk it to get the biscuit.

Thanks for reading!

The Secret Appeal of a Buick

So I'm sitting here in my friend's car waiting for him to return from speaking to someone at his job, and all I can think is "Hmmm, this is like the perfect car for a high school and or college student", and you know what? I'm right, as usual.

Alright, let's move away from my record high intellect and delve into what my friend drives. "Maybe it's a Mustang?! Or a Camaro!? It's definitely a slammed Honda Civic?!" is what I assume all of you are saying.

However, it is none of those. It is a maroon, 1994 Buick Century. 

It has whitewalls and a maroon interior, and it is damn proud of it's glorious self. It also has fake wood adorning the dash area along with a horizontal speedometer, but none of that really matters. The important thing is that altogether, the car is perfect for any teenager.

It's cheap, and relatively inexpensive to fix as well, since parts are abundant and servicing it isn't extremely difficult. It even gets pretty decent mileage, which is perfect for someone who works a part-time, low paying job. Like working at a video rental store for instance.

Now, I know what some of you may be thinking, and that is "How am I supposed to pick up hot babes in a 94 Buick?! I thought you needed a Miata for that!?!??!!".

Here is where things get interesting. You wouldn't think that the Buick is a beautiful women magnet, BUT IT IS. I can't explain why, and I probably never will be able to, but the ladies must have a soft spot in their heart for a maroon Buick because I swear I have seen my friend on a date with Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe he just has mad game, or maybe, just maybe, it's the car.

Usually I leave you guys with a lesson and today is no different.

Beautiful ladies don't love jewelry or diamonds. They actually love 1990's era four-cylinder cars, and you can take that to the bank.

Thanks for reading!

My First FAQ Post!

Alright, so many (none) of you have been asking me some questions about my life, such as "Cody, should I buy a project car?",or "Cody, how do I change the oil in my car?", and of course, the most common, "Cody, how do you attract such beautiful women?".

Well, yeah. I do think you guys should all buy project cars, because no matter how many problems you come across, and there will be many, the good times will always outweigh the bad times. Today I am going to tell you guys about my first project car, a 1970 Opel GT. I bought it with my friend during the spring of my junior year of high school, and over the summer we attempted, keyword there, "attempted", to restore it to it's former glory.

My friend found the car at a defunct dealership and decided to take a look. The floorboards were rusted through and near the wheel well there was a large piece of bodywork that was just sort of missing. Didn't matter. He was hooked and soon enough, so was I.

Not 5 minutes after purchasing the car, we stopped at a gas station to fill it up for the 50 mile journey home. At this point it decided it hated it's new owners and decided to break down. After being told we would have to move it, I began to wonder just how much gasoline I would have to ingest to forget that this purchase ever happened. Luckily it never came to that because by an act of god the car restarted and we made it the rest of the way home without any issues. Except when the windshield wipers started attacking each other. But it didn't matter! It was home, it looked good, and it was ours!

I was so excited to clean it, work on it, drive it, basically anything to do with the car was an exciting thing, until it came time to title the car. To make a long story short, my buddy and I had to remake the 50 mile journey about 3 times in order to obtain the right paperwork because the DMV had it out for us. I understand how that statement can sound a little conspiracy theorist-ish, but I swear that the DMV told us we needed one thing, then another, then something different again. After contemplating burning the car to the ground as a symbol of revolution against the DMV and everything it stands for, my friend and I calmly talked to another representative who finally agreed to give us the title.

The important thing to remember is that although there were some very rough times during the beginning of our relationship with this car, we always remember how fun it was to own and experience the car. I think everyone who is interested in cars should buy a project car at some point, because its a great learning experience and I guaran-damn-tee that you are going to gave a great time.

Oh, I almost forgot. The only way to attract beautiful women is to work at a video rental store and own a Mazda Miata. Once you've done that, you're golden.

Thanks for reading! Come back soon to hear about the time that I stalled the project car at a major intersection!

Let's talk about balls

Like everyone else in the world there are things that irk me, things that just make me go "why god why". Since I now have a blog and like 20 readers (on a good day) I have a place to talk about such things. So get comfortable ladies and gentlemen, because this one is a doozy, and something that is negatively affecting all Americans.

Truck. Nuts.

For those of you who don't know, truck nuts are a pair of male genitalia or in layman's terms, balls, which are made of rubber and hang off of a truck's tow hitch. They just dangle there, serving no purpose whatsoever, or so it may seem. I have decided to delve into the deep underworld of truck nuts to discover if they actually have a purpose, and if they do, what that purpose is. Here we go!

First! Maybe girls like them?

Nah. Having spoken to what I'm fairly sure were girls, I can definitely say girls don't like a pair of rubber balls hanging on a tow hitch.

Second! Maybe they're funny?

No dice. After researching (googling) "things that are funny" I have discovered that truck nuts were surprisingly not listed. Huh. Odd.

Third! Maybe, just maybe, they serve a purpose I don't know about.

Nope.

The only thing they do is hang there and in my opinion, look bad. Some might say they look tacky or hickish or possibly even good, but I think the word bad really describes exactly what truck nuts look like. If truck nuts were a person, they would have a confederate flag on their wall and be of the mindset that the south would someday, truly, rise again.

Well I'd better be off. For the betterment of America, I have decided to take a cross-country trip and destroy every pair of truck nuts I find. To follow along with my journey and join the cause, head to ihatetrucknuts.com

Thanks for reading!

What are your belts trying to tell you?

Picture this. It's a beautiful morning (in reality it's already probably noon) and you are just waking up, about to get out of bed and suffering from the pounding hangover you got while you were out last night, as the kids say, "turning up". All of the sudden, you hear a horrible screeching noise that makes you curl up in a ball and pray that it ends soon. But it doesn't. How do I know this? Because I'm the guy whose Miata is making that screeching noise, and I can tell you that sometimes the noise persists for quite a while. In an effort to end the suffering of Americans everywhere, I, along with a friend, took on the task of changing the belts on my car.

Now for this post to make sense you have to hear another story. One day as I was driving my car home from the bikini contest where I was a judge, I heard a clang. Immediately I assumed something had fallen off of my car and checked to make sure everything was alright. Since the car wasn't on fire and still moving, I assumed everything was alright and moved on with my life.

And now we finally come to part where these two stories intersect! As we removed the old belts we discovered that my alternator was doing its best truck nut impression, or in other words it was just sort of hanging there, only one bolt attaching it to the car. An alternator is the part of the car that charges the battery while the car is running. When it comes to important things on a car, an alternator is sort of like not having a spoon when it comes to eating Spaghettios. It's just not going to be a fun time.

To put this in perspective, I probably drove over 600 miles with my alternator being kept alive by an old screeching belt, or in other words I was flirting with disaster, cheating certain death, etc. I wasn't on the highway to the danger zone because I was already in it.

After an unsuccessful trip to find a bolt to replace the one that abandoned ship, we decided to just search around the house and found one that we decided did a good enough job of attaching the alternator back to the car. In a way, I owe everything to my old, worn out belts. If you guys wouldn't have screeched (which must have been them warning me in car-speak) and let me know you needed to be changed, I would have never discovered the alternator issue.

Theres a lesson here somewhere, and I believe it goes something like this: If something is wrong, it's best to assume theres a much larger problem at hand and you should probably just cry and hope everything comes out ok.

Thanks for reading!

I finally get it!

Growing up I never really understood the appeal of an SUV, or girls for that matter. I mean what was the big deal? It was just a bigger car, and to me that never really appealed. However, now that I am a full blown adult who will no longer make mistakes aka a 20 year old, I finally understand the appeal of SUVs, and here's a hint, it involves girls.

Full disclosure, I may refer to a few vehicles that may not be SUVs but are actually crossovers or something else and if you can't handle that then you can go away (but make sure to come back for my next post I need an audience please).

Where was I, oh yes SUVs. I like 'em, and I want one in my life. I have a buddy who once owned a Range Rover Classic, and although it rarely moved because Lucas electrics, I loved riding in it. Later in life we test drove a 98 Range Rover and I realized why I loved SUVs.

I loved riding high above the other drivers on the road, and since I was in a Range Rover I am now going to refer to them as peasants. Now I probably wasn't riding very high above the road, but it felt like I was and that feeling was just so cool, and that is probably the best way I can describe it because I have a D in English. Riding around knowing you are high above the ground, and not only that, but it was so comfortable in that car. Maybe that is just because it was a Range Rover, but I felt the same way when I rode around in my roommates ~2003 Ford Explorer.

It's nice to know that I have finally embraced my inner yankee, and have fallen in love with the thing that has been seen as quintessentially American since the days of good ol' Bill Clinton and his saxophone. And as an American I look forward to my first SUV purchase, a Japanese made Toyota 4runner because they're just so cool.

Also girls like SUVs and will let you touch their butt if you have one. I think.

I've bought a car!

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my blog!

I started this blog because I am a big fan of Jalopnik, and also because it sounded like more fun than typing my English paper that is due in a few hours.

I bought a car last summer and I am proud to say it is somehow still working and I haven't ruined it yet! Craigslist.com is a great place to find a lot of cheap things, such as hot tubs, erotic experiences, cars etc., and it is the place where I found my car, a 1994 Mazda Miata (The first year for the 1.8 liter engine!!).

*waits for all the gay jokes to roll in*

All jokes aside, I do love my car, but it does need a little TLC. I plan on updating the blog as I discover new problems and telling you guys all about them!

Thanks for reading!

"Yeah there's a little rust but that should be easy to handle"

Nope.

I was completely wrong on the subject of rust when I came to own the first car that I had ever bought for myself, a 1994 Mazda Miata.

First, I would just like to point out that no, I am not gay, and no, I am also not a girl. However if you are actually reading this, then you are probably an "enthusiast" and understand that Miata's aren't just for guys who like interior decorating shows and those mythical creatures I have never talked to because I was too busy trying to fix all the problems my car developed after I had purchased it.

I freely admit to being possibly the world's worst mechanic, and if you happen to read any posts after this one (while bored in your college accounting class I'm sure) then you will come to realize that a monkey with a wrench is a better mechanic than I. 

OK I'm off topic. The point is that I bought the car knowing that it had rust issues and I thought to myself "oh a little bondo, a little paint, that will be an easy fix", and I was so wrong. The rust was worse than I had ever imagined, like I swear this car spent half of its 190K miles underwater and the other half in a salt pile. Maybe I'm just complaining because I'll have to replace the body panels and that is going to take $$$$ and they will just get rusty again in a year because Nebraska, but I believe there is a lesson to be learned here.

If a car you want to buy has rust issues, dont think you can fix it with $10 and some tin foil. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to apply my tears to the affected areas in hope that maybe the rust will take pity on me.