Most of us are familiar with the concept, if not the story, of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray. For those who are not, the story is about an infamous rake, cad, and libertine by the name of Dorian Gray, who despite his reprehensible lifestyle is astonishingly immune to the ravages of time, somehow maintaining his youthful appearance and vigor. Unbeknownst to anyone but Mr. Gray, he has a portrait of himself secreted away, which magically absorbs the damage that he has visited on himself and others, displaying his true visage: decrepit, time-rotted and horrible to behold.
Times have changed, but people remain people. In my foolish youth, I congratulated myself for retaining my youthful appearance despite a reasonably hedonistic and self-destructive lifestyle. Then one day I realized that my sins were being visited not upon a painting or photograph, but on my truck.
Behold the damage:
I like brown liquor, strong beer, barbeque, and brunettes. Also, you suck.