Vans

Not the shoes.

Ok, so you heard me crying a few weeks back about somebody throwing a fire extinguisher through the window of my car. I had plans for that car. We were going to go places. (Sorry about that. Puns just happen sometimes.) Well, we bought a new--to us--van that the six of us can all ride comfortably in without having to strap one of the boys to the roof. (No matter how much they beg me to, I'm not gonna. Imagine what the neighbors would think when they flashed their winning bug-toothed smiles!) It's a silver Ford Windstar and we're all thrilled with it. I guess the neighbors aren't, though. The other day I came out to put the new license plates on only to be greeted by "Go Emo Kidz" and "bitch" written on the back door in black sharpie ink.
Now, I'm a peace-loving individual and I outwardly restrained myself. But I'm 99.3% sure who did it and in the recesses of my mind, I was taking my Louisville Slugger to their braided heads. I was able to get it off with some effort.

As for the Mustang, we're getting rid of it. We're keeping our other van, a green monstrosity that sucks gas but is useful for hauling video production equipment. The fact is, I'm too lazy to get a new window for a car that is drawing it's last few breaths anyway.

The green van has another useful feature: Ever since we took it to Jiffy Lube this last time, it stalls while idling. But it doesn't stall just any old time. It's only when the light you're waiting for is about to turn green. So you always know when it's time to put it in park, start it off, and get going. Of course, the people honking and swearing at you for not going soon enough are a great help, too.