They’re very, very big rock crawler tires.
I’m in the odd position of loving HamNo’s writing while disagreeing with him on nearly every thought that flies from that truly impressive cranium of his. (All his articles, not just this one)
“Why don’t we just tax the hell out of gasoline and pour that money into upgrading the MTA’s infrastructure?” you may ask yourself as you jerk the wheel to avoid a dead bicyclist.
Same misanthropy, similar bite, different ends of the political spectrum.
I put a mini-review here. I liked it. The engine made a good noise. Would drive again.
Ikea? Girlfriend? Drivers license? Has a extra dollar?
After reading this, I am convinced HamNo is actually a bizzarroworld version of Jeremy Clarkson. This sentence, in particular, gave me a positively Clarksonian chill:
This is fantastic.
Also the seat heater buttons are pretty easy to find.
Being offered a free Lexus GS F for the weekend felt like being offered custody of the child of a distant relative…
A mini-review:
If a media personality has a hot taek in the forest and no one is there to hear it, can we leave him there?
Joe Buck does not need to be a Pro Golf commentator.
July 7: double-header against the Cubs. We could get two updates in one day!
Another loss? Guess this season’s not in the Cards! Wacha Wacha Wacha!
Racial profiling is terrible. Like, people look at me and just assume that I love mayonnaise when, in reality, I only kinda like it.
A friend recommended last night I do a Twitter search for “Steph Curry Cam Newton.” I don’t think I’ve regretted anything more.
