You're right. And there are.

Bravo!

It's never perceived as mutual when someone believes they have the upper hand (and there's nothing like striking first and striking harder to confer that). Perhaps when we've gotten to the stage of personal nuclear weapons we'll fear mutually-assured destruction, but not with conventional firepower.

More and better armed police do not make you safer.

Meh. I can do that with my rear-wheel drive Mustang, dude. I drove mine for 10 years in the Siberian tundra with some Blizzaks and I, like, totally never got stuck once. I used to drive by all those idiots in their GAZ 66's stuck in 2 inches of snow and LOL my ass off.

Spaceship:

This is what's funny. He probably has no need for the cargo capacity of the Jeep nor does he cherish it like an enthusiast. He bought that thing for one thing and one thing only: to get his sorry-driving ass out of snow drifts. Doh!

"Good tires," Bob mused, frantically screaming at them, "but certainly not GREAT tires."

Thanks for spoiling the the perfect race-baiting stereotype. Next time there are Mexicans throwing BBQ sauce, can we trust you to shut your damned mouth?

It's totally missing, well, style. It's sexless; possessing neither feminine nor masculine traits. It's neither flamboyant nor brutish. It doesn't even look that fast. If McLaren sticks with this design language and enough buy it for its performance, maybe it will become iconic, but for now, it doesn't look…

I go there to have more fun than others and rub it in their faces with my overly fun smile and supremely fair outlook. In essence, I try to establish my funster cred.

The car is the star in this original tuner-scene movie: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Drifting? Pshaw, I can fly. Bonus points for sickly-sweet music.

Sorry, I just meant to add that the debate as to whether she was exceeding the speed limit or not wasn't terribly important. It wasn't directed at you, rather at those who think it's critical to assessing blame.

I will say this; it looked like nothing else and bucked the Italian-wedge design that makes most supercars indistinguishable, except by the details. But yes, ugly.

Speeding is going too fast to react to reasonably probable (though not necessarily common) events. A driver merging poorly into the fast lane is reasonably probable.

I'll agree that she's not blameless, but there's little talk about the passenger's role in this. I'm speculating, but I don't get the sense that this woman knew Germany, nor the car she was driving, like the back of her hand. I'm guessing she was going to count on the Abt employee to guide her on what's appropriate…

Not really a factory effort, but I couldn't resist the Artz Golf, a Golf cut in half and stretched to fit 928 mechanicals. It's probably one of the few whose widening has little to do with the fenders.

Do you ever wonder if you were set up by GM as part of their new Camaro ZL1 "Villains" campaign?

You have it so wrong, Doug. The Germans (and the Italians and the Brits, to the extent that they make luxury cars) are the only one's who've figured out that poor reliability is not only a feature, but the only one that separates true luxury from near luxury. The Porsche-owner conversation would have never happened…

Do like that one, do, do, do, doo.