not everyone wants their own skee-ball arcade in the basement.

If you are a 21 year old who drives a Porsche Cayenne, I dislike you.

Pardon my Archie Bunker-level of transparency here; I’m actually trying to work through my bias. In fact, I laid in bed last night, trying to imagine a decent person – someone with whom I’d want to be friends, say – who fit that description.

This is the best I could do:

I guess, if one came from a family with the means to provide their college kid with a $50,000 ride, why the fuck wouldn’t you? Maybe you could think of other ways to spend that kind of cash (I sure-as-shit could). But to each his own, yeah? Maybe Mr. Porsche thinks a <insert dream car here> is as frivolous as I think a Porsche SUV is. I’ll allow that that doesn’t make him a fundamentally bad person.

Because let’s face it: The story of the wealthy person who can afford luxury automobiles actually tooling around town in a Ford Aspire is a big fat false myth. For every Prius-driving celebrity are forty-four Escalade-owning professional athletes.

And really, this is a poor example. Hybrids ain’t cheap, y’all.

Wait, what was my point? Oh, right. Judging books by their douche-y covers. I shouldn’t do that.

But I got a ways to go yet.

"Hey, Jim, which one's yours - the Subaru or the Aston-Martin?"

“Hey, Jim, which one’s yours – the Subaru or the Aston-Martin?”

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