I know a lot about cars. I can look at a car's headlights and tell you exactly which way it's coming.

I've had a strange compulsion lately to take pictures of interesting looking cars. I trust you notice that the vehicle pictured above has... eyelashes? The odd cultural habit of referring to machines as 'she' has taken an interesting turn. Like, really? I can't decide if this car should belong to a man or a woman. It's too expensive, chunky and flashy looking to belong to any sensible woman I've ever met, so it must belong to a man. The sort of man who sticks giant plastic eyelashes on his car. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike this idea. It's kind of cute. But bizarre. My brain is having great difficulty trying to figure out what sort of guy would think this was a cool idea.


This car was parked near me at the shops the other day. It's a baby ute! A baby ute! Again, two ideas- babies: cute, small, delicate - and utes: big, masculine and tough - that you don't often find closely juxtaposed. I had to take a picture. My mum claims that this was probably a normal car to begin with; that the owner had it made into a ute - but my usually fertile imagination balks again. Who would take a little car like that and thinks, 'yeah, just what I want, only with a tray instead of back seats!' Like, what? Although I can't picture a design team working on a prototype either. So it must be a specially customised vehicle. The mind boggles.

I don't really like talking about cars much, so if this is the first blog of mine you've ever read, and you like cars, you'll be disappointed by subsequent readings.
Cars are not my passion. They get you from A to B. They cost bucketloads of money and sometimes they involve you in accidents. Not fun. But they're certainly handy. I'm very grateful for my little ol' car!
But, of course, no car could be as cute as:

Squee!