Oh, Brother Of Mine

Jason, Jason, Jason (WARNING: DO NOT CLICK ON THAT LINK IF YOU ARE WEAK OF HEART! I WARNED YOU. SERIOUSLY. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU. THERE'S A WHOLE BOLD AND ALL-CAPS PARENTHETICAL WARNING YOU NOT TO CLICK ON THAT LINK). A Saturn? Really? You're what, 22? And a guy? I understand that you have a semi-child borne from a Balrog-like creature, but c'mon! A Saturn? Where're you going to take them in a Saturn? You'll have milkshakes thrown at you when you drive through the streets of your barrio. The kids at the schools you work at will no longer take you seriously (if they did before). You're trading in broken down machismo for metrosexual fuel efficiency. Where's the honor in that? So what if your truck had a piling of trash stacked to the ceiling. So what if the center console was comepletely gone? So what if the passenger side door had to be opened from the outside causing an escape issue for those riding shotgun? So what if it started breaking down frequently and costing you all of your "savings" to repair? You're driving a fucking Saturn! For shame brother (though I can no longer call you that since you drive a Saturn), for shame.