Impala love

Brad Pitt is in the back seat of my car. Don’t worry, he’s just chilling with a pair of my winter boots, a sweater and a few pairs of flip-flops. Really, he is. Right on the cover of a back issue of Vanity Fair that landed back there a few weeks ago…

So you are probably thinking my car is a messy disaster, right? Wrong. I love my car. Sure, he isn’t perfectly clean, but I’d let my older female relatives sit in it and he smells nice. …Wait, now you’re thinking. Did she say he? Yes. Yes I did. I drive a Chevy Impala named Marshall. I named my car after the most reliable person I know: Marshall Eriksen, the trustworthy small town Minnesotan values, good guy on How I Met Your Mother (slight addiction to that show, I know). And so far, so good. Sure, I forget celebs like Brad in his back seat every once in a while, and there is still that lamp in his trunk from when I moved three months ago…and he probably needs gas and an oil change, but the POINT is…I love my car. And today I’m going to clean him to prove my love. And later, we might just take a drive.

 

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