My, look at the time!

I, feeling restless, spent the last little while cleaning the crap out of my car. Which means the Deceiver, but for some necessary junk all up in his trunk and a tire in his backseat (which I THINK there's some sort of procedure for ridding myself of, though I might just be paranoid), is feeling cleaner than he has for ages. He used to have a whole bunch of boxes and shit in the trunk, Princeton Review materials and other crap in the backseat, and a passenger side floor covered in empty coffee cups, wrappers, and other embarrassing waste, but all that has been flushed away. I am certain that will be conducive to the Deceiver's running better, faster, stronger, and having an overall happier outlook on life.

...as the car has, essentially, just taken a very fulfilling poo.