dear imaginary friend,
how can i appease the lesabre gods? this evening after a fruitless attempt to purchase paillettes in the suburbs, my car died in the middle of a by-the-way-very-busy intersection & now it has been towed to a garage & i have to wait all night to call them. i will say "please tell me i am not the Car Death Fairy. please tell me that big lug of a vehicle is going to make it."
seriously, i am starting to worry that my car's secret name is going to turn out to be Johnny Deformed.
love,
your imaginary friend