*Vaguely* relative to the horse thread, even! My first car was a hand-me-down 1976 fire engine red Ford Pinto. yes, that's where I'm claiming the vague relation to horses starts. And ends. It quickly proved itself to be, well, a Pinto (the biggest joke of a car since the Nova went to South America) and it was consequently dubbed "Hell". Not coincidentally, I felt like I was in Hell every time I got behind the wheel. Lucky me, the fiery furnace never did erupt while I owned the thing ~ but I was mercifully able to avoid being rear-ended.
The next car was a vomitous little Plymouth Horizon. Not a whole lot better, but enough so that its name became "Purgatory". It was inoffensive enough, especially by comparison to Hell.
After that was a 1973 green Volvo station wagon/tank. I arbitrarily decided that naming my cars was somehow jinxing them, so this one didn't get a name. But its engine seemed to run better when I spoke Spanish to it. It was 16 years old when I got it, I had to try something!!!
