Skeetre was in Dayton today, came to visit (now we need to go to Florida and visit him, he says) and we grabbed Lily and Dash to go see The Italian Job. Will make notes on it later. All in all, though, a v. fun film. Was much pleased with the afternoon time, despite later hither-and-yon.
Mini Coopers sell for about $16,900 base, can do 0-60 in 9 seconds, possess a top speed of about 124 mph, and have a 27/33 mpg rating and four-star safety. They are also manual by default (yay!) and come in colours other than confused-about-my-sexuality teal like the one we saw. Despite looking like a cross between a drunken SUV and a v. horny VW Beetle, I think the little beasts are kind of cute. Maybe cute enough to cure me of my Honda loyalty, if we should be in the market for another car soon. Must examine reputation for durability and long-term service records. After all, am used to driving cars that do not flinch at 200,000 miles. Michel-Ange is extremely faithful. Am also concerned about entering a long-term relationship with another potentially gay car. Being spurned by a drag-queen Honda every time my husband drives him is (1) disconcerting and (2) not nice for my car-libido. Tease.
Coopers, due to default stick-shift (implies male car) and genuine ohh-I-want-it cuteness (implies an attention to looks that is potentially overly girly) have me worried. They appear to want to be handled in a v. butch manner, too, which suggests that I will indeed be perilously close to becoming the automotive version of a fag-hag. Any input?
Angel is preparing for bed with an overly snuggly look in his eyes. I think this is my cue to go make sure both of us feel better.