Captainkirk's Duster project

Red Rain is coming down, Red Rain. Red Rain is coming down all over me, in the Red Red Sea. Peter Gabriel, Red Rain

Well, that's what if felt like, anyway. Red Rain. Rust. Chunks and flakes dropping in my hair, my ears, my EYES, for cryin' out loud! No, I mean IN my eyes! That hurts! This is followed up with a healthy snort of Rust Reformer (what do they do, give it counseling or something?" You're going to Rust Reform school, son!") so that when I worm my way out from under the car, I can hardly stand up. Oh, not to mention the hordes of mosquitos that have appeared out of nowhere and are visciously dive-bombing me in Kamikaze waves as I try to spray in between swats. I have the bug zapper plugged in, but they mock me by ignoring it like a priest walking by a hooker. So, what the hell am I taking this abuse for?
The Duke. Eye on the prize. I'm 2/3rds done with the underside of this hulk now. And I told you guys I'd finish it. Call me crazy (I certainly would!) but I must press on!