Coche

I drive a White, 1995 Pontiac Bonneville, a fact which is usually only interesting to those I know personally and to the blue canaries issuing an APB for my arrest.

Everyone loves the Bonneville. First off, it has plush, cream-colored, leather upholstery. Sit in the back for a moment. Comfortable? Yes, I thought so. How did I know? Because you fell asleep within one second of sitting down. I also invite you to stretch out your legs. What are you afraid of—stretch them out, already. See? The 1995 Pontiac Bonneville offers 12-foot leg room for all passengers as a standard feature.

The most popular aspect of my car, however, would be the sunroof. People love to stick all sorts of appendages out my sunroof. I encourage this—it facilitates commune with the air elementals.

What’s that? Oh, I turned my car off but left my sunroof open? That’s alright, I meant to do that—I’ll just leave it open. I know we’re in a bad neighborhood, but I’ll just—haha, I got you good! Look! It’s closing automatically! Haha—I’m laughing at your expense.

*winks at sunroof*

Sometimes when I’m coasting around in a quiet residential neighborhood I’ll lift my butt off of the driver’s seat so that my head sticks out the sunroof. Before doing so, however, I’ll put a corncob pipe in my mouth. Then I pretend I’m a tank commander, making explosion sounds with my mouth as I drive by houses of people that have wronged me in some way.