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Is the second car a Chrysler product of some sort?

The second car is either a 1958 Buick Super
https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1958_Buick_Super_-_Flickr_-_exfordy.jpg

Or one of the smaller Euporean countries

I don’t think my booze capacity has changed much, but it is hard to remember.

My capacity to socialize is at an all time low. It takes a lot of energy for me to be pleasant and interested and chatty.

I’ve reached a professional level of alcohol consumption. Still waiting for my call up from the minors.

I used to be a total barfly but I haven’t been to a pub in a couple of years now…it’s been over a year since I even had some beers…maybe over the Christmas holidays…I’m taking some actual time off this year, come hell or high water.

I still live by The Golden Rule

“I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy”

And although the amount I drink has diminished I do drink much higher quality alcohol

You’ve got to keep that liver cowering in the back of its cage. If you stop abusing it regularly it gets uppity notions, and next thing you know you’ll get tipsy smelling a light beer.

I am a high-functioning agoraphobic who rarely drinks in public, and sparingly at home. I’d HAPPILY be drinking now, but I’m struggling with NaNoWriMo, and if I took a drink I’d never hit my word count for the day. But my coffee consumption has gone way up …

American cars have a significant following in the UK. Check out Classic American magazine at your local newsagent. It was at boarding school in Norfolk where I first saw a 1959 Cadillac (no it was not 1959). On my return home at 16 I bought a 59 Caddy, which I still have.

Chryslers and Packards and Olds, oh my!

You don’t see many old cars here. Salt water and jungle rot and vehicular abuse has reduced most to sodden old piles of rust.

Most new cars quickly become old cars. Most old cars quickly disappear.

As far as my capacity goes – I don’t have the patience for social blather any more. And here, most folks just want to use me to practice their english, which is most annoying, especially when the person practicing is also getting hammered. Give me a cranberry juice – or the occasional martooni – and send me to my bunker a contented old fool.

I’ve applied the concept of Interval Training to drinking. Long periods of little to none then BAM. Holidays. Keeps the old liver guessing.

I discovered about nn years ago (the exact amount I leave as an exercise for the student) that when I drink, I break out. I break out in lost marriages, lost jobs, lost dignity . . .

From time to time I wonder if I could handle it now. But if I couldn’t, I’d have the devil’s own time stopping again. No, better not.

Speaking of breaking out when you’re drunk, nobody has a fuzzy memory of maybe accidently possibly shooting down a Russian fighter plane, do they?

Nuh-uh. Not me. I didn’t start no world war in my cups.

Thank you, Some Vegetable! I guess I just don’t associate GM with multiple hood ornaments.

There are quite a lot of British cars of the Fifties and Sixties that look like little teeny Bel Aires and Caddys. They’re cute as hell.

But nothing to compete with the Manlyness of the 1967 Mustang Fastback! I wish I still had mine. I also wish I had my 1947 International KB-1 pickup. That beast was made of serious sheet steel. If you were to ram my IH with a 2015 Dodge Ram pickup at 65mph, the Ram would shatter, and I would have some paint buffing to do on the IH.