The Lying Nazi is No More

The Lying Nazi Bullshit Diesel was an unstoppable zombie, but I finally knocked off it’s head with one dirty swing.

I dropped it off at the VW dealer on Oct. 26.

It was not a tearful goodbye. VW has it all on video tape. Turning in the car felt like I was being deposed by Robert S. Mueller, himself.

There was the swearing in, the acceptance of all conditions, and the video taping of my words and actions.

They watched me drive it 5-feet backward and 5-feet forward. They walked around and videotaped every inch of the car. They checked to see the radio was still there.

dueling vw's

The settlement only said it had to be “drivable”. I could have ripped out all the seats, the radio, the windows and doors and they would still have to pay me my god damn money. But I didn’t part out the car to get as many pennies out of those bastards as I could.

No, it’s not because I’m an ethical human being… It’s because I’m too stupid to figure out how to get all that shit out of the car without being a danger to myself or others.

Even if I did get all that crap out of the car, I had no place to put it, and no easy way to sell it. I don’t really want to know what a 5-year-old car seat is worth.

For one last little fuck you, VW did not have a check for me that day.

“We will send you an email with a link so you can sign up for a wire transfer,” the robotic legal assistant said (with a fucked-up Wisconsin accent).

“It will take 2 or 3 days. If you enter in the wrong routing number, there will be no way to return the funds to you. Do you understand?”

Jesus fucking christ. I should have made them enter in their bank account info when I bought the car. And if they did it wrong — free car for me.

So the next day, the Bear and I went to get the new car. And no dedicated readers, I did not “transition” like the former Bruce Jenner and get the Subaru. Nor did I switch teams and get the Miata.

I settled for a Honda Civic Hatchback. It’s practical. It gets great gas mileage.

It’s about as exciting as an 80-year-old stripper.

So every week, I’m driving my little hatchback to Tucson while I’m chanting to myself “keep it on… keep it on”.

Lucky me.


**** the photo was taken at my condo. Some other schmuck had a similar VW with the same bike rack. One day he parked to the right of my lying nazi bullshit diesel.

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