While aimlessly wandering around tonight I ran into a swell 1968 Olds. The kind of car that'll never be build again.
Anyway it's unnaturally hot for spring. The streets are full of freaked out proles, and clueless tourista's, and I bumps into my dream car.
It was parked right outside the "Fed",..where they keeps all the gold, and where the guards walks around with M-16's. Hey life in wartime kiddies. Well it had a Fed sticker on it so some gold wonk owns the wheels.
The only sort that could afford one these daze.
3 comments:
Dear Santa,
I want this car.
I have been a good Queer Pacifist Pornographer,...all year!
I also never want to pay taxes ever again.
Thank you.
Little Sidney
PS, How is Mrs. Santa, and your companion Bruce.
Classic car! I drove one (in the day) but it has long rusted out and been buried in some metal graveyard, I'm sure.
Love the comment from "Uncle".
Thirty-cent a gallong petrol, and all the free-love babes you could get. I was 10 yrs old back then, so naturally I missed out on so much.
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