Pax Letale

Misfortune usually picks other people to fuck with. People who are ugly, or fat, maybe even retarded. Today, the laws of nature have changed and misfortune has decided to fuck with me. In a harrowing attempt to fix this stitch in space/time, I'll be being uncharacteristically nice. Maybe.

So my car is fucked up, making some rattling noise, and I know it means my baby is sick. My precious, fast, shiny baby that can cut people off in L.A. traffic effortlessly. Usually I know what's going on with my cars, since I'm a genius, but this is a new one I bought last month and haven't gave a shit to learn about since I'm studying other things.

Anyone know about cars around here or what?