I guess I will tell you then
I spend 5 hours masturbating before my prostate exams. I edge, and edge and edge, until a butterfly sneezing on my taint could bring me to orgasm. I tactfully shuffle my way down to the doctor's office and when he lubes up I nearly cum every time. But I've trained my keggle muscles enough to the point where I can hold in Mount Vesuvius' wrath. Then as soon as he puts the smallest bit of pressure on my prostate I unleash with the fury of a lion hunting its prey. As the room gets covered in my hot sticky juices the doctor looks on disgusted and leaves the room. I always go to a hospital far away from where I live to get it so that I don't have to go in for surgery under the doctor that I busted to. Best thing is we have free healthcare here, so the doctor gets me off and it's covered by taxpayers. That's my fetish.
So, my current car.
My first time seeing what would later become my car was in 2016, when the local "homeless" soldier - call him M - rolled up in a slightly roughed up 2007 Dodge Charger. It should've been a red flag for both him and, by virtue of association, the car - but I was new to the unit, so I figured it was all the same. Later that year, driving home from across the country for Christmas Leave, he hit a patch of black ice, sliding his car off the side of a road. The front of his driver side came to rest against a tree; the rear end swung a bit further and took out a nativity scene, killing baby Jesus. After the car came to a stop, as there were no injuries or fires to call into Emergency Services, he called his chain of command to let them know that he'd killed baby Jesus, and also that he may miss a day of work while he tries to arrange another way to get home.
Hence the nickname Kratos, God-killer, slayer of children. Alt: Pontius Pilate, although it doesn't have a ring to it.
Now, this guy M wasn't exactly a mechanic. So, after crashing his car, getting it serviced to be road legal again, he parked it for a few weeks in his driveway, mid winter. He went back out and - lo and behold - it won't start. So he makes a mental note to fix it...
...And buys a brand new, 2015 Dodge Challenger, all white.
Now, about a year later, mid 2017, the lease on my old home is up and I'm looking to move somewhere closer to base, since I had no car at the time. Of course, M offers to split rent on his place, since he's living 1 man in a 2-bedroom house. I accept the offer, and move in. I ask a couple questions about his Charger, and after a bit, he offers to give it to me. Without a reason to say no, I accept, and end up doing a bunch of minor repairs on the car just to get it running again, adding the name Kodiak to be less edgy, and slightly more feminine.
I swap the battery, dropping in a fresh one, and BOOM. She starts up like a charm. Now, because I still lived with M, there was no reason to drive my Charger much of anywhere. So she sat, mostly untouched, for a while still on his driveway, until M got posted, and I had to find a new home.
Mind you, at this point, the car still had a number of issues, which I can reference a mechanic's defect list for:
-Driver's side front window is held in by zap straps
-Passenger's side front window has no power
-Heater/Fan occasionally fails
-Front brake discs are not aligned to wheels and show excess wear
-Park brake doesn't work at all
-Extensive body damage
-Driver's Control Arm is loose
-Rear suspension is riding low
Eh, I'll finish the tale of my car at some point.
Fix it yourself like a real man. Bitch.
I mean, my car is leaking something too. But it's a beater so I can't be bothered to deal with it.
My car has a crappy engine thanks to it driving through a small flood like 6 years ago.
My car is perfectly fine
I don't have a car in Europe so
Wow aren't you cool