I used to do the advertising for Clarion’s consumer products in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s.

I learned to drive in my mother’s Dodge Lancer. Four-door, white, black/gray/white interior, 225 c.i. slant 6 engine, push button automatic transmission. We got the Lancer because Dad didn’t like the fake spare tire on the trunk of the Valiant.

My dad had a ‘64 Dodge. Dark blue. Base model without carpeting. It’s what I learned to drive in. I didn’t kill anyone.

Bullshit is usually muddled while the truth is usually clear.

Of course not. That would make too much sense.

Exactly.

Have they searched Amber Guyer’s apartment?

What have they found in Amber Guyer’s apartment?

Lots of low end torque? Maybe the engine will find its way into trucks and SUVs, since that’s where the money is.

It’s the most beautiful car I’ve ever driven. It was only fifteen minutes worth of test drive back in the day, in a dark green one. The evil me wanted it so much, but the good me knew I shouldn’t because I would get in so much trouble. I got an Integra instead.

There are a lot of people who know how to drive a manual transmission. I did for 40 years because that’s what real men did. Then I realized a manual made horrible traffic more horrible.

There you go. All fixed. Remember, spellchecking is only part of proofreading. The wrong word spelled correctly is still the wrong word. (End of pedantic rant.)

...immediately THREW it around the Nürburgring... Past tense of THROW.

I guess your snark detector needs recalibration.

My brother’s second car (and first brand new one) was a pea soup green Dauphine. His first car was a 1938 Imperial coupe. The Dauphine was followed by a couple of Corvairs. My brother was never one to follow the herd.

Texas seceded, Florida sank.

The police in my former hometown started charging homeowners and businesses for responding to security system false alarms. This would be the same thing.

And then they ruined it all with a way-too-large logo that doesn’t follow the contour of the deck lid edge.

We Americans understand more power. We understand bigger. We understand excess. We understand bragging. We don’t understand more fun with less power. That’s an un-American concept, like being happier with less stuff.

Sort of, shall we say, an “homage” to the Cars’ “Just What I Needed.”