Petroleum Ambergris

The other day I was looking through the motoring section of the paper. This is not something I would normally do but I was trying to look tough.

While flipping through the 'petrol pages' (do people say that? 'Course they do. Bloody petrol pages. Find a new gas bucket or some shit!) I saw this BMW for sale. I noticed that most ads in the for sale section said things like "low kms, new tyres, big donk". This ad said "BMW. Smells like new".

Smells like new!

This is what I look for in a car. Does it smell like new or does it smell like a shitty disposable nappied two year old has gummed to death a couple of chicken nuggets in the back and then peed in the ashtrays?

It smells like new?!

I will buy it then. I can look past the dents in the front where you mowed down a couple of kids on your desperate way to the hand job parlour, or the jesus fish sticker and the semi-lunar smudges from your 'baby on board' suck-a-sign on the rear windscreen, or the black smoke that coughs out rust whenever you change gears. I couldn't care less about these slight imperfections. The car smells like new.

It smells like you've gone down to an auto shop and bought some of that 'new car smell' spray and skunked a whole load of it all through the interior. Oh the pleasant waft of chemicals! It smells like plastic and adhesive and a change in fortunes and carpet and real estate and 'get out of my fucking way!'.

New car. New car smell. Difference?

None!

Holy fuck. My car. My actual car. It's not doing so well. Smells like cooked carpet. The temperature guage punched above it's weight. And it's rusted like country acne.

Country acne?

Not sure exactly what that is.