My girlfriend’s rusty Civic blew a tire on the side of the busiest highway in town which led to us changing the spare tire, buried under a mountain of the previous owners crap in the trunk, on the side of the road as traffic flew by at 70. Fun. Then when we arrived at her house I noticed the engine was knocking a bit so I doubt the old ‘93 is much more for this world. Not that it was anyways, the suspension sags about an inch and a half lower on the passenger side and every bolt head on the car has long since become a mound of rust. Problem is neither of us have the funds right now for a new car which means she has to borrow rides where she can to school/work or I need to find a way to swap an engine into her previous ride, a late 90s beat-to-shit Chevy S10 with a blown-up Iron Duke, automatic transmission, shit door hinges, and various dents and scratches. On top of this we’re getting a house soon which is another level of insane financial bumblefuckery I need to manage. Meanwhile it’s 2am and I’ve just now wrestled the oragami disaster known as “wrapping presents” for my dad and sister.

Bah humbug indeed. Pictured: an S10 I *wish* we had.