[Polybius]

VEGA, I believe.

No, I meant Vegas. Plural.

It just wasn't my Vega that was bad. ALL Vegas were bad. Every last one of them. (Mine just happened to be worse than most of them.)

To this day, my brother will say, "Hey, you remember that POS Vega hatchback my brother used to have in med school where the paint had peeled off down to the primer and he would paint it over with Rust-o-leum? And how he always had to have plastic milk bottles filled with water in the back because there was no way to keep the radiator from leaking? And how it blew an engine twice and how it........"

Money was really tight for me back then. When the Vega died for the last time in my senior year, I spent several months taking the city bus to the hospital.

[pissant]

I get ya. Lotsa souped up Vegas were found on the side of the freeway, as I recall!

[NautiNurse]

the paint had peeled off down to the primer and he would paint it over with Rust-o-leum? And how he always had to have plastic milk bottles filled with water in the back because there was no way to keep the radiator from leaking?

OMG! ROFLMAO--and recalling many, many more nightmares from Detroit including the Chevette...eeeeesh.

When my Ford Fairmont was in the shop, borrowed my friend's Chevette for a nursing school project. The Chevette broke down--coasting to a dead stop at the entrance to a cemetery. Very appropriate.