It's official: The car is a complete write off, so now, after a brief but intense mourning period, the boy is in the market for a new travelling machine, and he is looking for some suggestions.

The only requirements: NOT an SUV (out of principle), yet something roomy enough for luggage (for when the South African kin comes to visit, you know) and for carting around presentation boards (boy is a creative sort) and - this is purely wishful thinking - room for a large yellow Labrador Retriever and his/her friends.

We want good gas mileage (but most hybrids are out of the question because they are simply not roomy enough), four doors (so nothing sporty, unfortunately)... and yes, that's basically it. Oh, and cup holders. But even the ancient Honda I used to drive had cup holders - and that's saying something, because it didn't even have brakes - so I'm sure cup holders are standard issue, nowadays.

Until its sad demise during an encounter with a tractor-trailer last Thursday night, boy used to drive a Camry. It was an older model (there was enough room in the trunk to stuff a couple of bodies, a feature that is sadly lacking in the modern Camrys), but it served us well.

During my days as a nanny, I sometimes borrowed the Camry from the boy to cart my youngest charge around the neighbourhood.

On one such excursion, we made up a little rhyme about the car. Allow me to post it here as a sort of obituary. Oh, and please forgive the poetic license we took concerning grammar.

I are the car
The car I are
I will take you places
Both near and far
I will take you to your school
I will take you to the pool
We will go around the bend
And I will take you to your friend
I will take you to the track
I will even bring you back
I will take you to the store
And wait for you outside the door
And thus we will roam
But we'll always come home
For I are the car
The car I are

Touching, isn't it?

Rest in pieces, car.

Okay, since I don't want to leave you on such a sad note - and without entirely veering from this slightly macabre tone - here's a horrible, distasteful and just plain bad joke in honour of Cinco de Mayo. (Hint: Ought to be a bit funnier when inebriated, so read only after consumption of couple of tequilas.)

Juan and his amigo Raul are fishing at the Rio Grande.

While they're waiting for the fish to bite, Juan listens patiently as Raul complains about his wife Maria's fragile nerves.

Suddenly they see an object floating downstream.

"Hey, Raul! Look! That thing! It looks like a human arm!"

"Impossible," Raul says.

But, as it drifts closer to them, he realizes that, by George, it IS a human arm!

They watch it float by, silently pondering the significance of a human arm, detached from any human, floating down the Rio Grande.

They quietly stare at it until it disappears around the river bend. When it's gone from view, Raul launches right back into his laments about his wife's jumpy disposition.

It's not long before Juan interrupts him again. "Look, Raul! A leg!"

And whadoyouknow? Sure as daylight, a human leg is floating by, right in front of their eyes.

Again, they stare at it in silence, until it disappears from sight.

This time, however, before Raul can continue his story about Maria's nerves, they see another arm, another leg, a torso and a head coming down the river. This time they both blink a bit, just to make sure that it's not the heat that's gone straight to their heads.

"Raul, isn't that Maria's face on that head again?"

Raul groans, and then he yells: "Hey, Maria, pull yourself together, woman!"

The End.

(Don't complain to me! You were warned, beforehand!)

P.S. Please don't forget to leave your car suggestions in the comments.