The very first car i almost purchased was a red 1999 Plymouth Neon. Don't you judge me. I was 17 and i was eager to get a car so I checked the paper and saw that this man was selling a stick-shift car for 1200.00 and get this, it had a spoiler. 2 points for Khak. Now I will admit, I couldn't drive a stick shift but I wanted a car and 1200 was definitely in my budget. Match made in heaven, right? Negative senors and senoritas (practicing speaking dirty for the hubster).
Anyway, I get to the house and the car is clean, looks well-kept and, to an anxious 17 year old with 1200, perfect. That is until the test drive. The first sign that something was wrong happened when I opened the car door and the frigging mirror fell to the ground. The guy told me that he "forgot" to mention the faulty mirror in the ad but it was a cheap and easy fix. No biggie, right? Who needs side view mirrors anyway?
So I drive around the block- the car stalled twice. I start the car again- the car smokes. I try to start again and that car yelled at me "Get the fuck out of here! I'm about to explode!". Needless to say, I took my 1200.00 home and cried. I'd just experienced what it felt like to almost purchase a lemon. Devastation, I tell ya.
To the main point of this post.... Lemons- of the women variety. The women that sit on the lot and act like they're Maybachs when they are really Daewoos. The women with 22's and the black spray painted exterior... The women that are so fucked up that all they can do is display a CHECK ENGINE light alerting you that something is wrong but they don't want to tell you or they dont know what the hell is wrong with them. Those women.
I bet there's at least one Lemon reading this post right now rocking their business casual attire, shaking their heads and plucking hot sauce chunks from their acrylics talking bout "im happy that aint me". Lemons oblivious to their lemon status. Ole silly ass lemon.
For those that have no idea what a Lemon is, let
Wikipedia me break it down for you.
Lemon: A lemon is a defective (car) woman that is found to have numerous or severe defects not readily apparent before its purchase. Any woman with these issues can be termed a 'lemon,' and, by extension, any product which has major flaws that render it unfit for its purpose can be described as a 'lemon'.
Got it? No? :sigh:
Covered up Rusted/Busted/Chipped Exterior: Look at that beautiful woman sitting there... body right, face right, grill right, got that Peeta Rican hair, skin right... All good, right? Probably not and you may be getting bamboozled by the dealer. Shorty has been spackeled with tons of MAC, Milky Way haya (that's hair, fools) and Spanx and she really expects you to believe she's a Bugatti with bald tires. Don't fall for it bruh.
Missing Pieces under the Hood: I know she seems intelligent and it appears that everything is there. Seems = not good enough. Ask her questions other than who her favorite rapper or actor is. If she's a lemon, she'll probably start to stall or cut off. A true lemon only has enough juice to last through a few dates to the movies and the Cheesecake Factory. Now, what good is a car that has nothing under the hood? Trust me... its useless and you aren't going anywhere just like that dumb ass broad you're wifin'.
Ole fucked up interior: I bullshit you not - one of my closest friends went to an auction and purchased a 745 BMW that has a semi-permanent odor of a dead man's ass and a backseat that came from another car. Auctions finest... Pretty sure it came from a drug dealer. Anyway, I mentioned that because it doesn't matter that he owns a car that's beautiful on the outside when the inside is all fucked up. While you're impressing folks with your pretty car and spinners you're also uncomfortable as hell sitting on a crate with a bungee cord wrapped around your waist looking like a damn crash test dummy. This applies to women too. No man wants a beautiful woman with a stank ass ole scriggity-scraggity ass interior. If you have a "my shit don't stank/fuck old people/fuck charity/ I like my job at the check cashing spot/fuck African midgets/put extra egg in my yat gaw mein" attitude I don't give a damn how fly you think you are, you will be sitting on that lot of love for the rest of your life.
There are no KBB values for snatch (and penis). There's no Coochfax report to tell you how many wrecks she's been in or how much body damage she's ever had. There are some totaled out hoes out here just itching to get you caught up in a high-interest buy here-pay here loan. However, unlike cars, the good thing about us women is that not one of us is alike and for every lemon there's a smooth riding, clean luxury woman with a buttery soft interior, shiny exterior and low to no miles ready to be taken for the long ride home. You just might just have to test drive a bunch of lemons to find the right one for you.