Sunday, July 4th, I spent the day washing my cars. Well, except for the ’97 M3, Its paint is so shitty that it would be useless to wash it. Anyway, my 17-year-old neighbor rolled by while I was washing my cars and asked if I knew a mechanic. I asked him what for, and he told me he needed to do some work on his first car. He worked his ass off mowing lawns and other odd jobs in the neighborhood and saved up to buy a 1995 Honda Prelude manual, but it needs a little work.