I leased a car last night, because I figure that I have too much money (that's what we bloggers do, sit around and light Nat Shermans with $50 dollar bills.) I am still getting to know the car but it is very cool. It has a sunroof that takes up the whole roof of the car. It has secret storage compartments. The interior is leatheresque. But the most impressive thing about it is that it comes from the future.

That's right, people. My newer than freaking new Jetta Sportwagen (because I am smart enough to know what niche I fit into when I'm advertised to) hails from the year 2009. I am just waiting to unlock all its secrets. My car knows who the next President is, for Christ's sake. It knows what the situation is in Iraq. It knows what the new price of gas is. It knows if Britney Spears finally got her weave situation under control and if Mariah Carey is still married to Nick Cannon. It even knows if the Cubs won the World Series (although I could make an educated guess about that myself.)

So many secrets, this car knows. But I cannot learn them. Because I do not speak German.