Saturday July 17th

I apologize for posting these later in the day, I've been going to bed before midnight for the last few days, no matter how much I sleep during the day. (Today it was from 1:30 to 6:45, finally I slept through the worst of the heat!)

The comic:

She looks thrilled.

Why doesn't the inside door handle work? I'd also think that the outside handle would be fight back, at the very least. Or just fall off, like I saw in an Archie story.

So he's not really chivalrous, he just has a crappy car and refuses to fix it. (Probably made it worse by trying himself, but in true Hank Hill fashion, won't let a stranger touch his baby. "Another man touching her manifold.")

And it is damn creepy to be next to a door you can't open, or at least weird. I've been in a cop car a few times, when Tiger Patrol wasn't up (they use golf carts and drive wildly, so much fun), despite the fact that it was during the hours they were supposed to be up. So I got a ride in a cop car, in the backseat. No interior door handle.

Also, my mom has a Toyota Tundra (2002) and it has a handle on the back door which is useless unless the front door is open. So when my sister's upfront and I need to get out (when they drop me off), I have to remind her to open her door. That's part of the design.

And I must say that my mom only gets her truck taken care of at Toyota. There's no shame in asking for help.

Her car is 8-9 years old (we bought it in late 2001) and it's still in good shape.

She looks quite resigned as well, the wife. ("I bet his mistress has a flashy sports car with working doors," she thinks.)

I understand keeping things until they fall apart - I had a holey shirt that I got at a yard sale and towards the end, I had to wear a white camisole underneath, the holes were getting higher. It eventually became more hole than shirt, so I threw it out. But while I had it, I made sure to do my own laundry! My mom wants many of my shirts (mostly pajama tanks that are see-through through age and washings - but being threadbare makes them cooler temperature-wise) in the trash, but if I do my own laundry, she can't grab them. Bwahaha!

But clothes are not tons of metal and they can't kill people like a bad car can. So the fact that he takes pride in the fact that his car doesn't work will only end in tears.

It's also a sign that the basic description is a joke - you'd think blue-collar workers would spend the weekend tinkering with their cars and improving them. But hey, let's just trap the wife in the car. Though she could get out by climbing over the center console or just sliding out if it doesn't have one. I have climbed from the backseat to the front and the reverse... while the truck was moving. But I'm an idiot teenager, so what do I know?