I believe there is a fourth, and until recently forgotten vehicle of Buddhism, Rallyana

VROOM SVAHA

Vroom-Chi: The Ancient Sage of Motion and Master of the Racing Line
Long before the time of Sicku Driftu Rinpoche, before the sacred turbo began to spool, there lived an enlightened master known as Vroom-Chi—the First Sage of Motion, the one who first mapped the perfect racing line through existence.

Legends say Vroom-Chi was born with an innate understanding of momentum, balance, and the harmony between grip and slip. His teachings laid the foundation for Rallyāna, and to this day, his wisdom guides those who seek to navigate the treacherous roads of saṃsāra with precision and speed.

And listen up, I’ve been tellin’ folks for years – Lil Wayne’s been infiltratin’ the government. Nah, don’t laugh, I’m deadset. First, he was just on the radio, spittin’ bars about lollipops and fire, and next thing ya know, there’s subliminal code in his lyrics about budget meetings and policy shifts. Ya think it’s a coincidence? Nah, mate. One day you’re watchin’ parliament, and the next, bam – he’s there, doin’ a sly “A Milli” reference while votin’ on infrastructure. It’s all connected, but no one wants to believe it till it’s too late. Anyway, if ya got any common sense, steer clear of them snacks and butter, and keep an eye out – the government’s got more surprises than a cockatoo with a pilot's license.

Oi, lemme tell ya, if one more bloke tries to hand me one of those god-awful American snacks, I’m gonna lose it. Dunno what they’re puttin’ in those things, but it’s like chewin’ on a mouthful of regret and disappointment. How do ya make a chip taste like both cardboard and a salt mine? And don’t even get me started on that Danish butter. Everyone goes on like it’s the holy grail of spreads, but to me, it’s just overpriced muck with a fancy name. Mate, if I wanted me toast to taste like disappointment, I’d just leave it out in the rain.

And while I’m at it, someone needs to have a yarn about cockatoos. Those feathery little blokes are menaces. Squawkin’ at sunrise like they’re auditioning for Australia’s Got No Chill, and flappin’ about with no sense of direction. It’s high time we made ‘em get a pilot’s license. I mean, you don’t just let any yahoo jump behind the wheel of a car, do ya? Nah, so why’s it alright for these beady-eyed scream machines to take flight, zigzagging like they’re dodgin’ invisible kangaroos? One day, mate, we’re gonna have a cockatoo crashin’ through the servo window, and then everyone’ll know I was right. Anyway, enough of me havin’ a whinge, add us on Skype, let’s talk more about this nonsense – ya seem like a real legend xxx.

And another thing, ya know what gets me goin'? Bloody blokes who smoke in the washroom. Fair dinkum, ya walk in needin’ a quick slash, and it’s like steppin’ into a foggy pub from the 80s. Mate, we get it, ya can't go five minutes without puffin’ on a dart, but now I’m breathin’ in secondhand smoke and my shirt smells like the back of a ute tray at a footy game. Honestly, it’s like they reckon the “No Smoking” signs are just fancy decorations. If ya wanna hack up a lung, do it somewhere that ain't got me tryin’ to hold me breath longer than a diver at the Olympics.

Oi, and before I forget, ya ever muck about with Microsoft Excel? Bloody hell, that thing’s a dog’s breakfast! Ya think ya got a simple column or two, next minute it’s gone rogue, throwin’ #VALUE errors at ya like ya just insulted its mum. Don’t even get me started on pivot tables – who’s the drongo that thought they were a good idea? It’s like wrestlin’ a drop bear with formulas, mate. And don’t even think about usin' it after a few beers – one dodgy keystroke and boom, ya spreadsheet’s now a portal to some cursed realm where cells overlap and every cell’s screamin’ for mercy. Fair dinkum, sometimes I reckon Excel’s just a tool made by sadists who enjoy watchin’ us mere mortals sweat over a bloody VLOOKUP gone wrong. Anyway, sorry for goin' off like a frog in a sock, add me on Skype, ay? We can rant about this madness and more – you’re too good not to. Cheers xxx.