Park that spent Benz on some other block.
All you do is depress value.
All you do is lower the rates.
There you go, slow-parking that plastic trap onto your cracked driveway. Back it up, pull it forward, back it up again. Better to abort and start again. You might get it right next time when you no longer carry that baggage.
We both know you can’t afford the tires.
We both know you can’t afford the oil.
We both know that rattle ain’t right, and we both know you don’t know what to do about it. But even if you did, we both can see you don’t have the dollars and sense to set it straight.
Park that spent Benz in a river and walk away.
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