Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

Got to talking yesterday about cars, and I had my co-workers in stitches (um, as usual) when I relayed the sad tale of the Nissan Sentra. I believe I've blogged about it before - never had the title, so I would create new dates on the temporary license plate every few weeks; had manual windows; and it made a horrific and very embarrassing sound when I hit the brakes - but what really got them going was the fact that the car had sheepskin seat covers. BLACK sheepskin seat covers. Which my mom thoughtfully gave me to cover the tragedy of the ACTUAL seats, but still. Sheepskin seat covers in Texas in the summer (not to mention black ones) are basically the equivalent of wearing a fur coat in 100 degree temperatures. Sweat-fest, much? That car was such a disaster that when I finally got another one (and no, there was no trade-in - I probably would have had to pay the dealership to take it off my hands), I literally left the car with the keys in it at a gas station. Odds are it's still there.