The dealer said . . .

[Mike Arman]

>> My dealer told me the cars arrive off the boat with tires
>> inflated to 90 psi.  That's what she said-- 90!


Personally, if a car dealer told me the sun was shining, I'd walk outside
and verify this for myself. Car dealers, and their wretched spawn, Monkey
lads (tm), have attained nirvana of a sort, a blissful, almost total
ignorance of the product which runs deep in their genetic makeup, and is
almost as legendary as their dishonesty and incompetence.

If Ambrose Bierce was alive and updated his "Devil's Dictionary" with an
entry for car dealers, it might read something like this:

"A particularly noxious form of human life which regards all other humans
as it's rightful victims. The purpose of car dealers is to extract the
maximum amount of blood from the victim, while giving the least possible
value in return. The shoddy, unreliable and often unserviceable
merchandise offered is designed by idiots, slapped toghether haphazardly by
morons, and is then relentlessly marketed to nincompoops by charlatans.

There is a special circle in Hell reserved for car dealers, with an even
more uncomfortable area set aside for USED car dealers. The manager
(warden?) of this circle has been quoted as "loving the smell of napalm in
the morning."

(I'm a little annoyed today - Sears is next on my "to call" list . . . )


Best Regards,

Mike Arman