Que beleza, só poderia ser o
Jeremy Clarkson. Ele captou tudo o que penso sobre perder uma tarde de sábado lavando o carro em frente de casa.
And I was staggered because just about every single man was out on his drive washing the car. What a meaningless way of passing the time. You don’t wash your vacuum cleaner or your television set, you have a machine to wash the dishes and you employ a man to clean your windows. So how much do you have to hate the sight of your wife and children before you think, “I’d rather go outside into the cold and spend a couple of hours burnishing my wheel nuts”?
I am aware, of course, that many men do hate the sight of their wife and children. Doctors even have a name for these people: “anglers”. But even the concept of sitting in the drizzle by a canal for six hours and then throwing everything you catch back into the water is not as daft as washing a car.
First of all, it’s very hard work. You have to do all the exercises favoured by homosexuals in gyms. Bending over, stretching, rubbing. But at least when homosexuals finish, they have glistening, toned bodies that make them look good. You? You’re just going to put your back out. And the more you clean, the more you’ll notice is dirty. If you’re not careful you’ll end up polishing the inside of the tyre valves and then not wanting to use your car if it’s raining.