whatever an erver is… it's mine!

So I’m sat here with frozen toes and fingers, and a brain flying at a million miles an hour, instead of being asleep (as per usual). Anyway, what’s got me stirring tonight is the apparent weakness of the word “friend”.

In an age of online social sites like Facebook, the ever-growing popularity of “roulette” type websites, and the age old chat programs like ICQ, IRC and MSN, face-to-face communication and shoulder-rubbing is being replaced with the cold and sterile buzz and clicks of computers and keyboards.

And I’m not cool with this. Take a look at my “friends” list. It’s less than a hundred (which is apparently pretty small). Of these 100 people, I’d probably name maybe not even 10, 15 at most, as truly a friend. That’s not to say I don’t value being able to chat and interact with everybody else, but it’s a bit misleading isnt it? Maybe it should be called “people I know or knew at some point”. I’m not a friends whore. I don’t care what my number of friends on my list is. All I care about is that they really are, or could be, my friend. I don’t care if you’re a supermodel, rich, or have good social circles. I don’t care about your religion, wether you are asian, french, italian, british, or even what you like to do in your spare time. I just care that you aren’t a fuckwit and that I can get on with you relatively easily. Read more

This is mainly for the girls. You may all think that us blokes are insane, depraved or outright screwed up for loving our cars like we do our women, but before you go about removing testicles, there are some things you need to know. Our cars are beautiful, just like you are. Now any bloke in a situation where he has two gorgeous girls to love is always going to have to choose one over the other. This is completely non-negotiable. The car is bigger than you, more colourful and gets him more places than you in most instances. It is required that you respect and understand their relationship, and let their love blossom like you would your own.

Secondly, cars need constant love, care and affection. Now I know I myself am a pretty affectionate guy, from time to time, and without a partner to express all these feelings and intentions to, the humble automobile is the lucky recipient. Bolts need constant tightening, engines and cooling systems need constant top ups and flushing out. Plus we have the outside to worry about too, making sure it stays shiny and sparkly. It’s our way of showing our love.

But, I hear some of you ladies cry out, I am more important than some stupid hunk of metal. But consider this. You love your man, he loves you. Many of his memories of you will more than likely involve his beast. The upkeep and inclusion of the car in your relationship guarantees a lasting and continuing statement, a bond that will seldom break (short of the guy finding a much younger, much faster and much more pretty model). Your man has been through good times and bad with that car. Stress, anger, fear, love, these are all things he has felt while he has been with her.

So, if you walk outside one afternoon and notice your partner whispering sweet nothings at the engine, see him pat, cuddle or stroke the fenders and the leather interior, grow impatient with him spending hour upon hour treating and cleaning and fussing over her, just remember, he’s got room for only 1 girl in his heart, and your fighting for it.

If anybody needs me I’ll be in the shed, hiding from the flying cutlery and crockery.