Death of the Mustang

Well, there’s really no real easy way to say it so I’ll just say it. The Mustang is dead. I will be driving a piece of shit for a while until I decide if I want to go through getting another Mustang or not. As of right now I’m just going to kick it with my hooptie and start saving a bunch of money.

This has been the unluckiest car I’ve ever owned, although I have only owned 5 in my life so far. I had a 78 Camaro Rally Sport, then an ’85 Tempo, a ’93 Tempo, a ’96 Mustang and my 2000 Mustang.

Shortly after I bought this car, I got rear ended while I was sitting at a stoplight. It was November in Wisconsin and of course, the bumper cracked in about 4 places. Jackoff that hit me lied about having Progressive insurance and jerked around until suddenly he was unreachable. Hopefully he’s somewhere in prison being violated by someone… because I don’t hold grudges.

My passenger front quarter panel was hit in the parking lot and of course, no notes saying oops… I got that one fixed but didn’t fix the bumper because that would have been out of pocket expense. I hit something in the garage one time too, which put a huge kiss in my stupid plastic front bumper. I never claimed that because even though it was ugly, it didn’t limit any functionality of the car.

Last February some dipshit ran into my car… my passenger side quarter panel again. This time it bent it up and inward and made it hard to open up the passenger door. Well, this time I paid a little extra and paid out of pocket for a new rear bumper since I was getting a new front bumper as well. My car was whole again, for a little over a year.

This time it was self-inflicted. I was driving through the parking lot and had started to turn before the big concrete pole, then I heard some death scream from my right and like a retard I looked but didn’t hit the brakes, and apparently didn’t keep turning the steering wheel… and crunch. I hit a huge fucking cement pole, fuck pole this was like a barricade. Anyway, after driving my car for over 6 years I didn’t realize that hitting a pole at about 9 miles an hour would result in the car being totaled out, but apparently like the body shop said, I hit the sweet spot.