Baby you can drive my Car
Yes I'm Gonna Be A Star
Baby you can drive my car
And maybe I'll love you
Beep, beep'm, beep beep Yeah!
Several of my blogosphere friends have wondered just what I drive that gets me in so much trouble. Is it apparent that my car is smirking and saying "Can you Handle This." This sleek darling was a combination Christmas/Birthday gift from my sweet husband. It a six speed manual transmission (really, who would want an automatic sportscar?) Porsche Carrera. It has a rear engine and a minuscule backseat (you would fit comfortably if you were three feet tall) A very dear man kept it in his garage for about five years...so essentially it is still very, very new to me. Men flirt with this car all the time...they speak to me to be polite! Younger guys always want to show their stuff and I'm like DUDE...are you kidding me! Sometimes, and I blame the car totally, I can't resist and have to show those guys just how fast this grandma can go. This is why the South Carolina Highway Patrol attempts to keep me in check. As I have said before, it is the car's fault...it just doesn't like to drive below optimum performance and pray tell where can you drive that fast legally except at the race track? Me and the car, we have an understanding...now if we could just get the police force on board we would be golden.
Happy driving my friends and if you ever come this way...we will surely go for a spin!
