Hello and greetings to my loyal fanbase.
Today has been a glorious day filled with excitement and achievement.
After an arduous journey back to the home that belongs to my benevolent father, I have settled into a cozy and blissful state of being much like the bright, glowing Christmas tree that does not exist in my living room.
The adventure home last night made me feel youthful again, like a wayfaring pilgrim. I left the great state of Philadelphia around midnight after attending a Christmas party that was bountiful with various meats, pot roasts, christmas cookies and vodkas. The cheeses were of somewhat low quality I could infer almost immediately. They were aged for some godforsaken reasons, filled with holes and quite sour. They were often not presliced either, making the use of sharp, dangerous knives a necessity which seemed to me inherently dangerous while hosting such a large crowd that was of course consuming ethanol based liquids, scrambling their good sense and turning them into bloodthristy, unpatriotic madmen . Personally, I prefer the yellow American cheese with plastic wrapping for affirmed maximum freshness.
The meats however were tender, juicy, and fantastic conceptually, but I felt they were somewhat poorly executed. The beef stew was lacking in beefs and contained too many carrots for my liking. It was also under seasoned. The pot roast was dry and quite as frustrating as the cheese, as all pot roasts should be tender so I may fill my stomach to capacity in a short time period. Similarly the meat loaf was too sweet and the turkey was almost all consumed before I had even arrived. Savages, I tell you, eating all the party food before the interesting people at the party were to arrive. I suspect it is reasons like this that the moral fiber of our society is being worn thin. Cornbread was not even being offered. There was a lack of fried foods which I found particularly appalling.
Upon my arrival home, I took my fathers Mazda MX-5 out for a glorious drive through the Rockville countryside, the time-honored Beltway (I-495) up through the breathtaking I-270 spur. My colossal frame and classic American width made it quite a feat trying to enjoy the cabin but I enjoyed the car thoroughly regardless. The steering wheel is sporty, adorned with the everlasting Mazda logo, and the steering is sharp and tight. Of course, the car is somewhat lacking in power, but there is little more than a good cheeseburger that will get my heart pumping as I wind through 2nd gear, speeding through the bends of Avery road, engine revving passionately all the way up to it's 7000 rpm redline. It gets my blood flowing as the 2 liter engine note screams in the cold wind, captivating the heart of it's driver for 1000 years. As I approach the hard 90 degree turns, I brake late and apply heel-toe downshifting techniques for rev-matching purposes, drop 2 gears and let the tail slide out in a blend of elegance reminiscent of a Russain ballet daner, before I counter lock the steering wheel and ease off the throttle just a bit before regaining control and reopening the throttle fully with a blast of fury and leaving the cars behind me in a cloud of dust and petrol fumes. The grip of the car is fantastic and squats and leans into corners with beauty and aggression. The suspension takes loads fantastically and the tightness of it gives me great response that I can feel right through the steering whee, but never threatening to pitch the other way if I engage in over-spirited driving.
My only complaint is that I believe this cars front end camber needs to come in a few fractions of a degree and the gear throws need to be a big longer, so that I may feel a bit more ecstatic joy and passion every time I upshift or downshift, the true times in which a man and car become one inseperable entity, feeding and living together in perfect harmony like a bull lives in a field on the loneliest yet most emotional planet in the solar system.
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