What sounds like the title of a co-production of Nicholas Sparks and motor form, is ultimately just another heading to another drama. The not nearly Siberian winter is already forcing my car into the knee. Again it strikes a rear light and I get every time a wipe when I get out. The windshield wiper system would need a new filling with some clear winter vehicle and the exhaust roars. First rust eats calmly in the new Dell (and I mean this huge bulge that distorts the whole sliding door) and my braking distance on the right says to me that I need perhaps new winter tires.
I like the winter, but I hate this car.
