The Gray Honda Civic Every

The Gray Honda Civic

And, to be sure, if you want a $40 mug of what Robin Williams refers to as a Betty Ford speedball, you can find one at a Starbucks on virtually every corner in America. Soon they’ll start opening branches of the chain in people’s houses. They’re like post-industrial barnacle.

But we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t want to waste today’s edition of our humble “weblog” nattering on about Starbucks; that’s about as original as singing “Happy Birthday.” Or owning a copy of “The Da Vinci Code.”

Rather, dear reader, we hope to discuss another omnipresent phenomenon in contemporary America: The gray Honda Civic.

A few members of our crack young staff own this vehicle, as they weren’t suitably high up in the editorial chain of command here at “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly” to land free Saturns (the cars, not the planet). As a result, these few staff members—let’s just call them “Chip”—endure days fraught with difficulty due to these plastic monstrosities.

What, you may be asking yourself, is wrong with the gray Honda Civic? Well, for starters, they’re pretty much the vehicular equivalent of Starbucks: Everybody owns one. Consequently, looking for your car in a largish parking lot can be a veritable hell on a veritable earth. Purchasing this stupid car is about as imaginative as, well, something really unimaginative.

In addition, the gray Honda Civic—much like its brethren in other colors, we’d wager—has an engine with about 20 pig power. You can go zero to 60 in an hour and a half.

Naturally, the owner of the gray Honda Civic will want to spruce up his car, to make sure that it isn’t the exact replica of everyone else’s on the block. But what can one do? Perhaps put a Howard Dean bumper sticker on it? Everyone is scraping their copies off by now.

Or how about, in an homage to our British friends, referring to it as a “grey” Honda Civic? That way, not only will your car suck, it’ll have a bad dental plan, too.