Turbo Boot

On my way home from the gym this morning I saw parked on Sedgwick Street, right next to the Danger Dominick’s at Sedgwick and Division, a shiny new Porsche Cayenne Turbo. I admire the Porsche Cayenne. It is like an SUV, only you would never use it as an SUV. It is like a sportscar, but not really because it is large and boxy and would never drive like a sportscar. So you lose both ways. But where you win is the astronomical price you pay for it. You aren’t taking it to drive the coastal highway and hug the curves and feel every pebble in the road. And you sure as shit aren’t throwing a load of firewood in the back or hauling your boat with it. So what are you doing? If you want an SUV that performs like a utility vehicle, buy a Jeep. If you want a sportscar, buy a Porsche other than the Cayenne. If you want to shell out $106,000 for an auto that does neither well, then rock out with your small cock out, brah.

This particular Cayenne caught my eye for one reason; it had been “booted” by the city. Nothing screams “United Fucking States!” like a douchebag financing a $106,000 sport utility sports car for 8 years, when he can’t afford to pay the parking tickets he gets on it. And before you say “He may have just forgotten to pay them”, let me tell you this: You have to be dead or in jail for it to get to that point. They send you tickets for months upon months upon months, and mind you…..you have to have 3 separate delinquent parking tickets to get booted. He can’t afford the $150. Live the dream brother! I hope he crushed so much pussy with that thing when he could still get the front driver-side wheel to roll forward. And I sincerely hope that the trollops who laid down for this smooth operator, enjoyed the 4 inches and 30 seconds they accepted into their body in exchange for being seen by like-minded vapid whores cruising around town in the Cayenne.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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One Response to Turbo Boot

  1. Anonymous says:

    I always just assumed the Cayenne was produced for the sole purpose of Porsche entering into the “my husband is rich as fuck and pays for absolutely everything so I don't have a job, fuck my personal trainer, undergo multiple elective cosmetic surgery procedures and am addicted to vodka and prescription painkillers” housewives market. Who the fuck else would think buying one of those things was a sound purchase?

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