You are the Queen but I am the God.

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3 months ago
This is a photo of my car getting bogged in the sand outside the Nightmare 4 warehouse rave on 25th September 2010. I think it might be the end of the line for my EF Ford Falcon. I just had it serviced and I was told it would need $1900 of extra repairs. This is on top of the $2500 worth of smash repairs on my driver’s side door that I just found out the insurance company won’t pay because apparently there were no witnesses to prove that “it’s all that redneck bitches’ fault who thinks she shouldn’t have to look where she’s going just because she drives a big fucking Holden Colorado.” I told the guy at Automasters not to do the repairs because this is the last straw and it’s just not worth it anymore to keep putting my money and love into this car. I have done it too many times before, I could have just put all that money into paying off a loan on a more reliable Japanese car by now. But I’m still sad and hesitant to part with it because it is the first and only car I have ever had and it took myself and others to so many raves, doofs, house parties and outback adventures. It is also a surviving victim of the great Perth hail storm of March 22nd 2010. The memories this car holds is emotionally overwhelming and arguably of historical significance. I was originally intending to stubbornly keep this car forever so that it would become a rare vintage item and not end up becoming one of those people who look back at the photos of their first car and wish nostalgically that they had kept it somehow. When I think about giving this car up to the wreckers I am reminded of the foot long sausage on a stick that my mum got my sister in Japan when I was little. She just nibbled on it a bit and then threw it away in the bin. My mum said that the sausage must have cried in the bin afterwards. I kept bringing up that story for years afterwards when I was a kid, saying “I wonder if that sausage is still crying somewhere.” It brings tears to my eyes to think about my car all lonely and alone crying in a wrecker’s yard somewhere.

This is a photo of my car getting bogged in the sand outside the Nightmare 4 warehouse rave on 25th September 2010.

I think it might be the end of the line for my EF Ford Falcon. I just had it serviced and I was told it would need $1900 of extra repairs. This is on top of the $2500 worth of smash repairs on my driver’s side door that I just found out the insurance company won’t pay because apparently there were no witnesses to prove that “it’s all that redneck bitches’ fault who thinks she shouldn’t have to look where she’s going just because she drives a big fucking Holden Colorado.” I told the guy at Automasters not to do the repairs because this is the last straw and it’s just not worth it anymore to keep putting my money and love into this car. I have done it too many times before, I could have just put all that money into paying off a loan on a more reliable Japanese car by now.

But I’m still sad and hesitant to part with it because it is the first and only car I have ever had and it took myself and others to so many raves, doofs, house parties and outback adventures. It is also a surviving victim of the great Perth hail storm of March 22nd 2010. The memories this car holds is emotionally overwhelming and arguably of historical significance. I was originally intending to stubbornly keep this car forever so that it would become a rare vintage item and not end up becoming one of those people who look back at the photos of their first car and wish nostalgically that they had kept it somehow.

When I think about giving this car up to the wreckers I am reminded of the foot long sausage on a stick that my mum got my sister in Japan when I was little. She just nibbled on it a bit and then threw it away in the bin. My mum said that the sausage must have cried in the bin afterwards. I kept bringing up that story for years afterwards when I was a kid, saying “I wonder if that sausage is still crying somewhere.” It brings tears to my eyes to think about my car all lonely and alone crying in a wrecker’s yard somewhere.

  1. nyanma posted this