WARNING: This is meant to be humorous, but like Southpark, should probably not be viewed by anyone, ever. If you get your panties in a bunch, I’m very sorry. If after all of this, you choose to read this little spewage and then get all huffy and write me back, then you have too much time on your hands and should kill yourself.

Ok, so I take the snake in for service today, and end up getting a rental. I got a fucking Toyota Echo. Let me tell you I thought Pontiac designers were bad. What a fine rolling turd this thing is. There are some medical grade pharmaceuticals traveling around the Toyota design department!

The Echo looks like the Pontiac’s Asstek fucked a new beetle and sold the offspring to Toyota. This is hands down the UGLIEST car ever. It looks like Toyota designers went to the duck-billed platypus school of engineering. This car is like 10’ tall and 4’ long, with 13” tires. I thought all 13” rims now a days were mandated by law to be 100-spokes? It’s sitting outside my house right now, and I swear to God it’s taller than my brother in law’s S-10, but it’s only half as long. Sitting in it, it feels like you are about 5 feet in the air (and remember, I drive a Mustang, which isn’t exactly know for low seating positions). I have the seat back all the way up, and, at 5’10”, the roof is at least a foot above me. It’s like a compact car made for basketball stars…

You just can’t make this shit up. I didn’t even think they had tall people in Japan. The designers must have been like: “Ahh-so, Daniel-san, It berry big, like Grand Canyon”

So here’s my experience. I walk up to the Enterprise rental desk, and BS with the guy about my car a bit.

Him: “Well, we don’t have a Cobra for you, but we have a new car for you.”

Me: “Uh….ok?”

Him: “It’s a Toyota Echo”

Me:

Him: “It’s not fast, but it’s OK for a little car.”

Me:

Him: “So do you want the insurance for $15?”

Me: “Nah, I think I’ll just deposit the $15 in the bank, that should cover totaling it”

Him:

So we walk out to the car, and this is what I see:

So, at this point I am trying my best to come to terms with my breakfast, which has decided it doesn’t care for the car too much either. Then I open the door and see this:

I went into shock. This has got to be the gheyest car ever. The shifter is like 4 foot tall. The car doesn’t even have a tach. The speedo is in the middle of the dash and goes to 120, the only purpose of which, as far as I can figure, is so you can see how fast it goes as you are gleefully driving it off of a cliff, as the hamster starts begging for mercy at about 80. The seats even have a rainbow-ish pattern on the cloth. If they just inserted dildo’s in each seat, they could call it the “Richard Simmons ™ edition”.

As I’m driving the thing, I start hunting for Liberace tunes on the stereo, and find myself becoming concerned with shoe colors. My left eye then begins twitching every so often as I pass someone….then I realize it only happens when passing guys! It’s trying to wink at guys! The car is working it’s magic on me!

So I race home, all the time thinking of ramming into a concrete barrier somewhere to spare myself the indignity. This, boys and girls, is what happens when you make a focus group composed entirely of gay men, prissy surfer chicks, and the occasional pot-head who’s just amusing himself. As I park the car in the driveway, I begin to feel normal again, and back away covering my ass with one hand and trying in vain to make the sign of the cross with the other the whole time chanting “AWAY, FOUL DEMON! Y0u ar3 the sux0rs”.

Oh, and if I offended anyone who owns one of these fine piles, I am sorry. Really. I am. You’ve been punished enough.

That is all.