Though residents of Austin, Texas sometimes go a bit far in their appreciation of their own weirdness, the annual O'Henry Pun-Off is a great example of what makes the Central Texas city unique and enjoyable. For more than 30 years the best pun-ters from around the world have met in Austin, one-time home to William Porter (a.k.a. O'Henry), to sling their best puns in order to be named the Punniest of them all. If you're in the area around May it is a must visit. Today's QOTD invited straight-forward answers but received a punny response from Graverobber that brought corn to the ears of many Jalopers.
When I was young and inexperienced, I got turned on by SM, Citroen SM. As I got older and wiser, my tastes turned to lithe young Minx's, Hillman Minx's. I also spent one crazy California summer with a Chevy Malibu, but she was too flaky and only wanted go to the beach and "smoke out." Then, after years of having seemingly experienced everything of a traditional bent, I became very experimental, seeking a new rush, and my attention was caught by a sloe-eyed Ford Probe, but that didn't last for long and resulted in embarrassing revelations to my therapist. He seemed to think it was perfectly normal, although he's been in a happy, monogamous relationship with his Country Squire for years now, so I guess I can see his point of view. A mid-life crisis caused my addiction to Opel Kadetts, with their cute little uniforms and tight, Teutonic bodies. Eventually I grew bored with them, and couldn't keep up with their voracious appetites for exercise, accessories and makeup. Tired and remorseful, I sought something more with my sensibilities and life experience, hence my current passion for Cougars, they really seem to "get me." Their heavy drinking and smoking aside, they really know what they're doing and are built for comfort, not for speed; if you know what I mean. Despite my years of shifting proclivities, my automotive passion has always burned bright, and I have many a fond memory. I still think about that Malibu, sitting there on the beach, the setting sun glinting off her smooth skin, how her thin wheel felt in my hands. If only I had worked harder to keep her, maybe things would have turned out differently. You always lament that one that got away.