Reasons why a wife is better than a new car.

Hey there beautiful readers, the writer’s block has broken!!! Bourbon truly does have some remarkable properties. Here’s something for you all that occured to me today……

Everybody loves a new car. Or motorbike, or even mountain bike, scooter, space rocket….. whatever floats your boat. Hey yeah, or a new boat!! [Someone please buy me a boat, I miss my old one… 😦 …]. There’s something about the gleaming paint, the fresh smelling interior, the smooth running engine that brings a smile to the face as you think to yourself “Check me out in my shining new motor, the symbol of my financial stability and my success in life!! See how proudly I traverse the highways, head held high in my self-important bubble of new toy-ness!!”

On the other hand, not everyone loves a wife. Some men will tell you that their wife is the bane of their existence, constantly bemoaning their short-comings (sometimes literally!) or bitching about the housework not being done, the garage not being tidied, when are you going to put those new shelves up like you promised, and so on… Well here’s today’s news flash for ya, men of the world, especially for those of you preening over a new car – a wife has a new car beaten every which way but loose. And I’ll explain to you why (because otherwise this post would be a bit pointless).

Endurance and Reliability – let’s face it, we’ve all had vehicles that have simply died on us, and gone to the great scrapyard in the sky without so much as a fuck you. Engines seize, bulbs blow, electrics catch fire while you’re doing 100 mph along the motorway (or maybe that last one was just me) and all manner of other small seemingly innocuous parts that seem unimportant in the grand scheme of things suddenly fall off and render your expensive transport bloody useless until expensive repairs are completed. A wife, on the other hand, contrary to the opinion of many men requires no assistance from a MAN to sort her out, she motors on just fine without you, thanks very much. And while you will find that a wife will most certainly require a good servicing a damn sight more often than once every ten thousand miles, she will not cost you half a months salary to complete the servicing. Except in some high maintainance cases. Nor does the failure of one small part render a wife useless. While you are laid in bed with ‘man-flu’, a wife can manage two children, shop, organise food for you, do the school run and solve world peace with one arm missing and her ankles tied together.

Depreciation and ‘Re-sale’ value – Your shiny new motor just cost you enough money to feed an African village for six months, and the optional A/C and MP3 player was an extra 75 gazillion bucks on top. Guess what? In five years time, it will be worth less than the flugelbinders (google it, bitches) on your shoes. Falling market values, the seven thousand other newer models released since yours and even the rise of alternative fuel sources mean that your expensive new toy will eventually become equal in value to an underwater hairdryer. Soon you will own the world’s most expensive out-sized paperweight and begin to wonder why you ever thought the money was a good investment. Your wife, meanwhile, will age far slower and less noticeably, so that when your car reaches obsolete-ness she will still be good for another few decades of reliable service, still move in both directions without ten minutes of trying to change her gears, and will still possess most if not all of her original features in good working order. Far more importantly, whilst your car is now worthless and no-one will want to buy it from you, your wife is still a prime specimen of her line which may well be the precise thing some-one out there on the ‘second-hand’ market might be looking for. Beware of under-valuing a good wife, my friends, because one day you will come home planning to pop her hood and check her plugs before taking her out for a once-around-the-block only to find someone else has been pumping her crutch clutch.

Adaptability and Optional Extras – So you bought a brand new Porsche Boxster did you, because it looks sleek and sexy, because Hank Moody in Californication looked such a motherfucking bad-ass in one, and because it helps compensate for the fact that you now can’t see your penis without a mirror? Poor move, dumbass. What happens when you need to mount a curbstone to park off-road? Or when you need to drive 200 miles over rocky dirt tracks to rescue your children from a sexually deviant summer camp ranger?? Or when you need to bring home enough groceries to feed your family on more than Oreo’s and chips for the next week? OK, so you bought an SUV instead did ya?? So what will you do when you need to park in a tight spot or drive under a parking barrier??? How cool do you think you’ll look cruising the Strip for stoned wannabe-actresses when you look like you borrowed your mum’s car??? Sadly, most vehicles have a finite range of uses, and are suited to some activities, but seldom all of them. But a wife meanwhile is more adaptable than one of those Swiss Army knives that includes a device for de-stoning a horse’s hooves and enough screwdrivers to single-handedly dismantle an Aircraft Carrier. She laughs in the face of adversity (she married you didn’t she???) and can and will adapt to pretty much any situation you throw at her without breaking a sweat. And while your optional extras on the car were limited to the a slightly smarter stereo, and maybe some walnut trim, a wife is a human being and capable of learning and adopting a whole range of new skills and tricks, yes even that slightly dodgy thing you like in bed involving an egg whisk and a head of broccoli, in next to no time. Optional extras normally cost a fortune too, whereas new wife skills will seldom cost you more than a well-placed compliment. Or at most, some Christian Louboutins. [Men, if you have no idea what these are, you’re lagging behind the rest of the class. Kindly catch up before you make our species redundant.]

Decoration and Customisation – Gosh, isn’t the paint work on your car so shiny and exciting and new??!! Yes, for about point oh-six of a second, until a passing bird craps right on the windshield, or some half-blind grandmother at the shopping mall broadsides you in her VW Beetle. Time and weather will dull its paint, crack and wear the interiors and dull its shine, and whilst a car wash will keep the demons of aging away for a while, eventually your car will look tired and worn. At this point, or even sooner if you are a sad teenager with nothing to do but illegally street-race your Vauxhall Nova, you may think of customising your car with new parts and paint jobs. These are all, invariably, sodding expensive. And unless you’re undergoing the mammoth expense of a complete re-spray and wax at the same time, all your new parts will achieve is to make the bits you HAVEN’T modified stick out like a sore thumb. You can dress a crack whore in Tiffany diamonds and Versace, but she still looks like she might stab you and steal your wallet. Or to quote my father, a man of many outstanding pearls of wisdom, “you can’t polish a turd”. By comparison, your wife can change both her attitude and appearance in mere minutes. She can be the legendary wife in public, mother in the kitchen and whore in the bedroom in the space of one hour, simply by using some well placed (or indeed, well removed) items of clothing and a little make-up. And whilst it may seem to many husbands that these things cost more than a new car would, the benefit is that the more stuff your wife owns, the more adaptable she becomes. She can appear demure and respectable when you bring the boss home, stern and in control when your parents visit, and as for the bedroom – use your imaginations, you sick sick puppies. Best of all, unlike your car the wife does all her own customisation, increasing your beer-drinking time and avoiding you getting up to the wrists in oil. Depending on your kinks.

Actual Usefulness and Long-term Durability – So on the surface of it, the car seems a worthwhile investment in terms of being a very useful possession. It enables us to travel outside the range of our two left feet, get to work on time, pick the kids up from school/parties/jail, bring home the shopping/dogs/hookers and a whole range of other wonderful travel-based activities. And on top of that you get those precious golden moments when you are alone and the road is open before you, the wind blowing in your hair (really must get round to replacing that driver’s side window) and you feel alive, powerful and FREE….  But as we’ve mentioned before readers, all this lasts only as long as the mechanical work you had done at Honest Buck’s Cut’n’Shut Auto Graveyard lasts, before the alternator falls off and blows out the offside rear tyre and sending you swerving to a fiery ball of death. This actually happened to my Dad. Except the fiery death bit, he just had to pull over wheel-less and wait for help. Still pretty scary though. Anyway the upshot of all this is that no matter how useful a car is, it continues to cost you endlessly while you own it, whether in parts or petrol or expensive toys. And it repays you by eventually dying on you, or being sold on at a loss. So its use versus durability argument is entirely dependant on your choice of just how affordable an expense it is. But your wife????????

Your wife wins the argument every time my friends. The only time ‘owning’ a wife will end in a fiery ball of death for you is if you forget your anniversary. Your wife may not like it much, but she can also pick up the kids from school/parties/jail, bring home the shopping and the dogs and fetch and carry all manner of things, and will probably do all of these in the time it takes you to have the legendary ‘couple’ of beer after work. The longer she is around the more valuable she becomes, the more reliable she gets to you, and the more beautiful she appears in your eyes. And long after any car would have packed up and blown a gasket under your heavy foot, she will reliably be there for you, carrying our lazy ass. Plus she has the benefit of also being capable of being fitted with new expensive modifications.

Thanks for reading today folks. Todays post was brought to you by my love for my wife. An amazing woman who thankfully had one moment of extremely poor judgement, and married me, and is still carrying my lazy ass today. Thankfully she only had one previous owner, who despite being a total asshatted fuckwit at least managed to leave her unscratched, and in running order. She is not perfect, because no-one is, but she comes bloody close. She’s funny, smart, sensitive and caring and I give thanks for each and every day that I get to spend with her. In fact, she’s such an amazing woman that………. I don’t own a car.

Love you Emily xxx


PS: Comments time darlings!! Have any of you ever owned a really shit car, or spent a ridiculously unjustifiable amount of money on restoring/modifying one?? Have you had a terrible car wreck??? Or a terrible car wreck of a wife, even?? Motoring and marriage related stories and shenanigans, share ’em if you got ’em…… 🙂

The Assassin.


14 comments on “Reasons why a wife is better than a new car.

  1. Love you husband, I promise you many more years (and miles) of faithful motoring/marriage … return for regular servicing, and the odd bodywork polish! (oh, and shoes never go amiss……. ;o) xxxxxxx


  2. I’ve had so many shitty cars. Pontiacs mostly. The fucking windows and doors alway seemed to malfunction. The windows would drop down and remain open until I could pry them up and duct tape them and the doors would get stuck shut, forcing me to either climb through the yet to be taped up window, like daisy duke in the dukes of hazard, or I would have to climb through the passenger side to get to the driver’s seat. NOT unlike my HUSBANDS: Their pant zippers seemed to get stuck in the down position, seemingly forcing their “wind” into other bitches mouths (and possibly hair). And THEIR mouths, much like my pontiac doors, would get stuck shut as they played the “let’s give my wife the silent treatment until she is driven mad” game. For a moment this would keep me out of my mental driver’s seat but eventually I would bust through and regain control.

    I have had two cars in which the heaters have broken as well, which was fun in the winter. Hm. I’ve also had two remarkably cold hearted douchebag husbands.

    I bought a Chevrolet Beretta once and 6 days after I got it home, the engine blew and I had to put all of my income tax refund into getting a new one. The very next year, that engine blew as well so hello third engine. My two husbands had malfunctioning brain engines, since OBVIOUSLY they knew not of MY value and overheated me constantly.

    I had another used car once that, after three days, the brakes completely locked up and I had to sink money in to get a whole new front and rear brake system. Kinda like my last ex who worked FINE for the three years that he was in PRISON but upon getting out, right around three months later, he fell off his drug wagon, punched a crack in my windshield and swiped the glasses off my face in one swift move. Talk about the fucking brakes locking up on that whole fucking relationship. I married him anyway, hoping that it would fix the brakes and we could gas full throttle ahead, but the gas gauge broke, salt got in the tank, and yes: the engine eventually blew.

    I really do have bad luck picking cars and men. Maybe I should get a bike. And go dike…


    • Get a bike and go dyke – dear god thats a t-shirt slogan if ever I read one!!!!! Perhaps next time you should marry a mechanic, who at least would have some working knowledge of how to bolt back the bits that are hanging off. And know where to find your starter motor!!!!!


  3. Wow, that whole post was such a turn on. Will you do me now?

    Seriously, your wife is a lucky lady to have a man who appreciates her value as higher than a shiny zoomy vehicle. Do you have to ride her to work? 🙂

    Also? I totally knew what a flugelbinder was without googling it . . . do I get a prize?

    (and by the way, when that writer’s block breaks man, it takes the whole damn with it, huh? Wow, those words are a flowing now!!)


    • Thanks Misty, although perhaps you should wipe that seat you’re sitting on before you skid off of it and break something. Sadly, I do not ride my wife to work. Although give me a saddle and a bridle,and I’m game for giving it a go. And yes, you win the Misty-ry Star Prize – a pair of flugelbinders. I’ll leave them on the nightstand with the cash like usual.


  4. oh Mr Assassin… I have a theory that women are like cars…. I guess I now have 2 posts to write, one for you and one for Shane. shit.

    But I appreciate this post very much. You are nothing if not thorough. I like that in a man.


  5. I have had lots of shitty cars. One of them had problems with the heating, and at some point began spraying cooling fluid filled with oil all over me and any passengers hanging around.

    The ironic thing is that this coincided with my worst trainwreck of a girlfriend, whom I ditched not long after I got a new car. I don’t think the one had anything to do with the other.

    In other news, my wife does all the car stuff for us. I’ve never really been all that interested in cars – I spent several years not owning one at all, in fact – and when we did get one, I was a bit pissy about having to take care of maintaining it, in light of my having to learn to cook, clean, bathe, etc., in order to prove my femininity and willingness to work toward relationship equality.

    So I started bitching. If you’re going to expect me to cook more than just pizza, then I’m going to expect you to learn how to change the oil.

    Fast forward. now my wife tells me when she’s made an appointment to have the tires rotated, gives me the keys, and I pick it up on the way home from work. It’s awesome. And if the mechanic needs to know anything, I tell him to call my wife.

    I have not problems with that. Less work for me is always good.


    • I applaude your reverse psychology, sir. I’ve never owned a car since I live on an island that’s 24 miles east to west and 12 miles north to south – I can almost throw things to the next town. I did own a motorbike for a while, and it gave me the best of both worlds… it was ample enough to run me around to work and back, but useless for picking up small children or shopping. As you rightly say, less work is good, especially when you have a genuine reason to avoid it!!
      By the way, your comment came up as Spam again….. is this problem unique to you, or are WordPress secretly a little racist/xenophobic??? If they send us to some Blogger Concentration Camp in the future, I claim shotgun on the top bunk.


  6. I realize I owe you a couple posts and a serious explanation…. they shall be forthcoming. Just wanted you to know I appreciated the encouragement and haven’t forgotten to write real shit.


    • HAhaha No explanation is required my dear, nor is it imperative you write things for my sake – I always felt the blogging community is less like a class where punishment is dished out for late homework, and far more like a network of recovering alcoholics holding each other back from the edge of disaster!!! 🙂 That said, I look forward to reading all your stuff Sars, and any future article will doubtless be just as informative and thought-provoking. Keep on keeping on!!!!!!!!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s