Tsk, tsk. Yet another Southern Californian expressing his or her love, nay, lust for a car. I have no doubt that Amos spent the night running his hands over the car in the same way and with the same look in his eyes that he used to reserve for those humans he loved. He'll be taking the car out to "dinner" next, filling it with premium gasolines and putting bumper stickers on that say things like "My other car is a Klingon battle cruiser" and "They'll take my gun when they pry it from my cold dead hands." Before this stage is over he will have installed a gun rack and a CB radio and be hanging around truck stops and gun shows, talking about how he prefers the .308 over the 7.62 x 56 cartridge (even though they're the same damned thing) and listening to bad C&W music. Eventually, the last stages will set in and Amos will be wearing a "gimme cap" from John Deere or Caterpillar, chewing Red Man tobacco, and have a Marine Corps decal and an NRA decal in the corners of the back window.

So sad...immediate intervention is needed, but that usually leads to the fantasy by the intervenee that s/he is a surfer person and all that implies.

I urge either immediate euthanasia or immediate lobotomy, or perhaps in this case, both.

So, so sad....