I rue the day I decided to clean my car

What the hell is it with the Weather Gods lately?

Every fucking time I even so much as think about cleaning my new car, it looks like it is going to rain. But does it rain? NO! And if it does it is so little that not only does it not clean my car off at all, it wouldn't have hurt it if I had actually cleaned it.

My theory is this. Someone, somewhere wants to make Jaime mad at me. For that sentence to make sense you probably need a bit of back story.

When we were looking at cars, she picked a light blue colour. Now, as we all know, I don't hate gay ass colours. I mean look at my gay purple Gamecube and ice blue GameBoy Advance. But come on.... for a car? Sod that! Anyways, so I picked a dark blue one and said that I'd keep it cleaned. However, since I can't fucking clean it, cause it always seems to be ready to rain, the time for bitching is nigh.

I just know that the day I finally wash my car, when the sky is blue and the birds are singing, it will rain. And not a normal rain either, a horrible dirty rain, the likes of which they only got in Mid-Industrial Revolution London.

Someone hates me.

Gods are such a pain in the arse.