How would you like to need a different used car than the one you are driving, then you go to a car dealer that you think you can trust. After a clever pitchman has you excited about the new car, you make a decision. In Illinois, it's final. You're screwed, fucked, raped, it's done. You're car is quickly spirited away and like it or not, this thing is now yours. Stupid little shit-box that it is--and you hate it, I mean you loathe it, and you loathe the people who have just stolen your money. So now what? They have your title, and all you can do is pick from the shit on their lot. You make another decision, you have no choice--you do your best but what you really want is your old car back. (I made a mistake-it happens, doesn't it?) Not in Illinois. The fucking dealer has you by the balls-then it happens again. You hate the next fucking piece of shit that is rammed down your throat. These fuck-heads are happy-they got the money, you're broke and pissed, and the law is on their side. What a racket! Now, I'm real pissed off, I have no legal rights except to hate these bastards with a vengeance. What fuckin'slobs-is this the way it should be? The little guy gets it up the colon, again. Won't say their name, but let's say it rhymes with foogy. Oh, yeah. I did it, I signed the paper. Well, fuck to that, I ain't got no rights in this state. This has to change and only very angry determined people will make it happen. Now, does that suck or what? | |
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