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But then—then!—I dig deeper, and ugh, the maintenance! Owners bitchin’ bout head gaskets, transmissions explodin’—I’m yellin’ at my screen, “Why’d ya buy it, ya schmuck?!” Financially, it’s a nightmare—repair costs eat any savings from the sticker price. I’d short that car if it were on the market, no question. Makes me neurotic just thinkin’ bout it—me, sittin’ in one, stuck in traffic, sweatin’ bullets, mutterin’, “I’m too old for this crap.” Total Larry David moment, right there.

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I woke up in my tiny apartment on Abay Street, the sun blasting through the window like it was trying to wake the dead. I’m an actuary, right? Numbers, stats, all that jazz. But today? Today was a whole different ball game.

Caspian Sea Near Aktau Turns Blood Red, Alarming Residents