That guy in your neighborhood who owns a herd of beater cars, often of a specific make or from a certain long-ago automotive era, and he parks them all over the public streets, greedily taking up more than his share of available parking spots. The cars sit in the same spot day after day until someone reports them and the police slap a 72hr tow notice on them, after which they mysteriously move a few blocks away only to come back a week later.
The car rancher either fixes them up to sell at which point he is also a curbstoner or unlicensed auto dealer, or he is just a somewhat mentally unbalanced guy with OCD that needs help to stop collecting his automotive junk and warehousing it all over the block.
Guest: What's with all the beater Lincolns on your block? I couldn't get anywhere near your house.
You: Yeah I know, the old guy across the street is a car rancher, we've tried to get his junk towed many times.
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