Fritz-Errol-Wilson has turned out to be a real lemon.
It's terribly tragic, and the 86 year old car mechanic genius from up the road who looked at it today, began his subsequent conversation with me "I don't usually slap girls, but with you I think I'll make an exception", because the thing is running so badly, no one should be driving it! I mean, I sensed it had some issues, but apparently the car was out of oil because it had exploded all over the engine (or something like that - obviously, I had no idea what he was talking about, although I do remember the part where he said "your car's engine has been on fire, at least twice, the burn marks are there under the bonnet!"). The air conditioning unit is broken and is leaking a river of some sort of liquid that has pooled in the carpet on the passenger's side of the car - water is actually seeping up through the carpet and sloshing around. The transmission is shot. The speakers have blown , the sun visor above the drivers side fell off the other day, and last week, the door handle on the drivers side broke, so I can't get in very well and have had to resort to climbing in through the passengers side a few times. (Obviously, that doesn't bode well for the fire that may start again in the engine at any time - I'll probably die because I can't get out the door and away from the flames!). I'm also in need of new tires... apparently!
Anyway, I'm disheartened. And I've started hating Fritz-Errol-Wilson. He's a money sucker! and He's ruining my life! Apparently, I need to buy a new car, and no one will want this one because it's got serious problems.
I tell you what, next time, I'm getting a girl car! With a name like Fritz Errol Wilson, is it any wonder he's insisting on going down in such a "general's last great battle" kind of a way?!