No, wait a minute, new house. After being shot down in flames on a "used" house, we have chosen to go for brand new. Same price, less hassle, more house. Ploped down the bucks. Now we hafta chose carpet, paint, tile and accessories. Not a big problem. Renee can have what ever she wants. The garage is MINE. Ah, the smell and look of virgin concrete, unemcumbered by spilled oil and carb cleaner. Walls of pristine white paint ready to be decorated by scantliy clad women in "drink" posters and Malcom Smith and Kenny Roberts posters. H'mmmmm, cool, 7 empty positions in the main panel. One for the compressor, one for the welder and the rest for the mirard of outlets required for a "proper: garage. No washer/dryer to suck up space. It MINE, all MINE.
On top of that, corner lot. At last, the other love in my life, 22ft of $$$ sucking fiberglass will have a proper home, where I can see, touch and feel anytime. (Its a guy thing Kat). Now, how do I blow up a XS emblem so I can paint it into my yet to be scarred garage floor?

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