Bob getting new tires that are nicer than he deserves.
My brother drove Bob across the county after a supposed "thorough check" that focused on the engine and new tires. When he got here, we tried to go on a short road trip and were met with a strange, unpleasant thumping noise emanating from the wheels. As it turns out, they hadn't been properly ratcheted down and were about to fall off. The brakes also didn't feel right, and when I had them checked out not long after, it was discovered that the brake line had rusted through and broken off leaving the vehicle without functional rear brakes. A fluid leak led to a cracked radiator and leaky manifold, and the engine... well, the oxygen sensor wasn't the only problem. The distributor has been replaced, but the fuel injection system is still waiting for a new spider. It hasn't happened yet because the front sway joints and the brake booster needed done first, though I did manage to get a couple of individual injectors replaced to bandaid the problem.
So far Bob has only officially murdered my bank account, but the failure is not due to a lack of effort. I have a deep set desire to set the bastard aflame. A day will come when I will be able to afford to do so, and when that day comes, Bob will absolutely be replaced by something that is not a Chevy as they are absurd to work on at home. I hate Bob. Bob hates me. #neverchevy
