Brown Bomber

Livin' out in the styx means ya gotta have wheels. Being poor does not make realizing this need easy. In fact it leads one to purchase a late 80s Blazer from an ex con drug addict who sweats a lot, acts cracked out and, while driving you around, sees a cop, mentions that his license is revoked and makes you drive the way home all the while talking about how good a relationship he has with said cop. This particular truck belches fumes, has an exhaust leak that sounds like an early model pace maker, leaks oil, lacks reverse lights, had a dead battery, gets about 12 miles to the gallon and sounds like one of those tricked out double muffler jobbers you see all those douchebag white guys in Philly driving. I love it (even when, after ten minutes of owning it, it ran out of gas on the freeway with the gas meter reading an eighth of a tank full).