I am amazed by how different my front end feels after new brakes and new tires. He has spent a good lot on me and I better spice up my act. I am struggling with a constant velocity boot tear but I must hold on and not bicker till he is in a better financial state. The least I can do is bite the road as hard as I can when he flips the steering and not give him under steer until it’s really necessary.
I am so happy for him. Finally, he is one step closer to where he wanted to be. And I am glad he is taking me with him. I am sure in a couple of months he will stop loving me and devote his attention to a four wheel drive or a rear wheel drive mistress. But I really should not complain.
I am his first. That’s got to mean something.
I wonder if I’d be able to write with that much affection when it comes to ‘MY FIRST’..hehe not a car..!
Vani
thanks sid..not official as yet!
What’s not official yet? Hmmmm ;D
‘yet’ :)..well, hope u make it official soon! 🙂
ladies, All in good time. I am not too keen on keeping it underwraps for too long!
And its not what you think it is!
I like wat u said D – the bit abt…”I’m his first. That’s got to mean something”..just wish some1 else cld read that…
take care D…hey…does she have a name?
Pallavi…
Pallavi, in this post, she is my 1999 Satin Silver manually transmitted Honda Accord. Now featuring new brakes and new tires!
I could get that it was a ‘Car’..but love the way u keep it open like this–in this post, she is my
🙂
Congrats Dushw 😛
-S
I figured it was ur car D…pls, credit me with a li’l more common sense…i know u well enough…i was wondering if u’d christened ur sweetheart something…like ur frnd Praveen, who’s named his Rita.
– Pallavi
apologies are in order! I havent named my car and prefer referring to her as “her”. A name limits the love.
Dushyant. Am currently at one of those incredibly shady cyber-cafes, that have booths enclosed by curtains, dim lighting, cheap pop…you know what I’m talking about. God knows what sort of freaks hide behind these curtains…makes me wonder…paedophiles, fetishists, kinksters…and, imagine if i drew each and every curtain and found a specsy guy researching thermodynamics, or a bored chick skimming through brad’n’jen type tabloid bullshit, or a slightly insomniac nightowl writing unrelated comments on a stranger’s blog…(!!!). I would almost be disappointed…
Perhaps thats where the fog comes from…
To make it more surreal…they play jazz (nights in tunisia). Imagine…jazz and paedophilia…
Shreya. Fuck Fog. This is downright a black out. While I fathom your basic message, I would be lying If I said, I understood the darkness of it all. And that is very frustrating.
You dont seem to be writing these days. Hope all is well. I check your blog everyday.
sandeep
All is well. But you are right, i am itching to write. Just a little too held up.