The end of the world IS coming!

Nostradamus, Jean Dixon, Alistair Crowley, bite me!

Predictions and fortune tellers are for fools.

The real signs are now in the streets.

In the past 3 weeks, I have seen FOUR new Fiats.
("Old Fiat" is, of course, an oxymoron.)

When I next go to Best Buy and see Zenith and Muntz, I'm just gonna off myself and avoid the near-earth-object's global inferno.

Yeah, but what about goat entrails readings?

On gym days, my commute takes me by a new Fiat dealer. They must have 50 of those little cars on the lot.

I liked them better when they were the Mini Cooper.

I like the retro dash. They look like bumper cars.

The new Fiat is one of the few consumer products whose mere appearance elicits a profanity-laced tirade from the usually urbane Mrs. Tuttle. I agree with her.

Does the "usually urbane Mrs. Tuttle" approve of Mr. Tuttle's new avatar?

Like a Fiat, you are a "dog," Tommy B.

Bad for Fiat. Good for you! Rock on, dawg.

Tom's post is nothing but win. Perfect.

I do not typically seek approval from the CFO for my avatar. I retain full creative control over my social networking.

Until it's time to ask for forgiveness.

Moi aussi! Not my cup-o-tea.

The new Fiat looks like it should be selling tires in the first Cars movie.