Of Course I Hear Voices: I Own Parrots

Senior year of high school: If you were to go into the parking lot at my high school, you would find many nice new and nice used cars in the lot that various parents had bought for their children. About halfway back in the middle row, parked between 2 *much* nicer cars, you would find my eye sore: my 1986 Ford Escort (mind you I graduated in 1997).  She was gold with red "racing stripes." She was well rusted. In theory, she was fuel injected, but she wouldn't stay started unless you pumped the gas pedal and applied a little bit of pressure after starting her up. The heater: was a joke. I could start the car, make my brother scrape the windows (this actually made him so mad he *stopped* riding to school with me...but hey I was driving AND someone had to keep their foot on the gas pedal to keep the car running), and then make the 10-20 minute drive to the next town over (where my high school was located) and my heater would kick on about 2-5 minutes before we arrived