We all know how attached we become to our vehicles. Some of us spend a lot of time in them. Regardless of how much time we spend in our car, we like things to be a certain way in there, right? Kinda like at home, things have a place and a use.

Most of the time nowadays, I avoid the car like I avoid the boy’s bathroom downstairs, only using it when I absolutely have to!

Nevertheless, it is MY car, and it is MINE. To clarify things, that car is for ME.

I may let you drive it, preferably when I’m not a passenger, as we know how that goes –

“Oh Fitty that’s amazing, I never knew they’d put the speed limit up to 160km’s on this corner?”

and

“You know you could park even further from the entry if we just left the car at home and fucking walked?”

So usually I drive…

Every now and then some well meaning cunt will clean your car out for you. They do mean well, they have a superior attitude towards vehicles which enables them to overlook minding their own fucking business (and cleaning up the layered decade’s of lacquered coffee spills on their own dashboard.)

not my car

They will borrow your car on some pretense and then drive straight to a skip bin, unloading all your precious shit, before driving off again. They couldn’t just leave that wadded piece of gum in the paper? They couldn’t ignore the dirty tissue in the cup-holder? What about the little empty mint tins? Don’t need them do I?

All of those things have a use!

Things may not always look like they have a use though, so let me enlighten you:

The gum paper?

Only the tattered, but useful end of a business card from that lovely Tasmanian couple we met at the Perth conference several years ago and (haven’t seen or heard from since!)

How could you throw that out on me?

The dirty tissue?

Actually a sustainable all purpose cleaning system (when applied with my water bottle)! Do you even know what it’s like when you spill coffee and want to clean it up? And it’s not a tissue, it’s a wet-wipe, (long dried out, used several times already), but when you just need something to rub a spot off a shirt or some crud off your face? Who’s fussy – just rinse and use?

The empty mint tins?

Just full of butts, because I haven’t emptied them for a while, but when I do, I can use the fuckers again right? NOPE because you threw them in the bin – so today when I was driving to the shops and had a cigarette, I had to hold onto the fucking butt for 6 k’s because there is literally no where else to put a live butt out in the car.

I should cut off your hands.

Maybe too severe, but for fuck’s sake, I’ve told you once and I will keep telling you until you learn (or you’re clapping with stumps) – Leave. My. Fucking. Car. Alone. Man.

*I don’t always air my dirty relationship laundry on my blog (haha yes I do,) but when I do, it stops the behaviour like magic internet waves of “don’t fuck with this no more…”

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