I’m selling my 1973 VW Type 3 Automatic to anybody up for the taking. I’ve had a fun two years driving this grade-A model, and I have to say the car’s best quality is its uncanny ability to survive.

My car is enabled with many self-preservation tools. Before even sitting down behind the steering wheel, any perpetrators would encounter my car’s perpetually locked left car door that is especially venerable to freezing temperatures and jammed on a day-to-day basis. On the off chance that a criminal is especially clever and figures out that you have to deftly unlock the door through the front window, the intricate DDR gas pedal combination needed for the engine to catch and start will surely alert anybody of an intruder as the gentle “purr” of my engine (more comparable to the choking cough of an asthmatic kitten) ricochets throughout its metal frame. Which brings me to the next endearing perk of my car: Not only is it cast from metal, but also light as a feather, because the front is completely hollow with the engine placed old-school, classic VW style in the back. This way you can feel assured that if the car-nabber makes away with the vehicle, the first thing he comes in contact with will crumple it like a empty bag of Doritos, while a simple fender-bender will end in engine damage. But here’s the real kicker – no air bags!

This car comes fully equipped with insurance! Despite it’s best efforts though, no policy is at a zero-cost guarantee, and you’ll run the ordinary risk of failure and vandalism. But sleep well knowing you have single-handily ruined the reputation of some poor criminal. Hot-wiring a car from the 1970’s is no impressive feat, and he definitely won’t be getting any kudos from his hood rat friends as he rolls around town at a steady 25 m.p.h. in a two toned, non-distinct VW. In fact, bask in the glory of the humbling power of irony in life, because your misfortune is now another’s lifestyle. Unprecedented miseries include no AC, one speed windshield wipers, spring back seats, peeling carpet, flooding, broken (installed upside down) tune-in radio, missing right side rear view mirror, manual steering, broken gas gauge, inaccurate mileage, and an incessant jammed seat belt buzzer.

But wait, there’s more! Ever wish you could bottle that sweet smell of gasoline, cigarettes and grease that every convenient store reeks of when you pull in to fill your tank? Well now you can, because this car funnels exhaust right into the driver’s seat through the heating vents. Anyone trying to drive this car would have to ride around in January with the windows down and a wind chill of 18 degrees to avoid asphyxiation from the CO2 emissions.

You’ll have more fun in this car before you can say, “I’m leaving the largest carbon foot print this way instead of plastic water bottles,” and as adequately displayed – it’s a Catch 22 of sorts. It’ll get you odd glances at the red light, but this car will also get you from point A to point B as long as you can turn a blind eye to cosmetics. On the other hand, if it’s ever stolen despite it’s fool-proof nature, you know it is now someone else’s burden to carry and you can go buy yourself that Honda Civic you’ve been wanting.