Brain-Dead Airhead Co-Ed

So, stranded on Framingham Turnpike,
I walked from the corpse of my 'Vette
(Unsure just what gasoline burns like),
As far as my high heels could get.

The tow trucker guy got my blood up,
His big chest all covered in hair.
He wordlessly lifted the hood up,
And studied the engine with care.

I'd let the poor pistons get wet, or
My battery somehow went flat?
He said, "Crap in the damn carburetor."
"How often, dude, must I do that?"