And of course we won't fucking get it in the US.

It's a NP if you're a) looking for a project, b) not into V8's and c) have serious garage space. This sounds like it would be fun, and if it turned out to be a something that you couldn't finish due to time constraints or lack of interest, you could probably sell it for what you paid for it.

Aw man, that's a shame. This wasn't a guy who was out to get his hoon on (well, I mean, he was, but not like dat), this was a guy who knew the symphony and altogether rightness of a for-real four-wheel drift. Look at him—he's not trying to be stupid, he's trying to be graceful. And I bet he's listening to "Air On a…

Agreed. NASCAR = lame.

Hey, what's nu?

I was all NP until I saw the shift knob. That brings up a pile of unanswerable questions.

Now we're talkin'.

Fuck YEAH. Batshit crazy requires a batshit crazy price.

I love this. But some o' dems are tricky for a Yank. Never seen a Suzacki Crappuchino or whatever it is at night.

That thing looks like it got fucked by a train.

Gah.

Nah—the goat fucker bit is indeed very necessary, considering the context. Put on your big-boy pants. No need for consideration here. I understand all that "in a civilized society" and blah-blah and yak-yak, but I have little patience for one group of people asserting themselves over another group of people under…

Oh God YESSSSSS....(fappity fappity fap...oh wait, it's an automatic? Droop...)

I have the weirdest boner right now.

Oh, I agree. And the FWD really shits the bed.

No qualifications or snippy remarks or references to fapping. This one's just a Nice Price. End of story.

Preach it, brother. And I love your handle. My buddy had a 505 in college. Never driven a car that rode so comfortably but could handle that well in my life.

Agreed.

I was waffling between NP and CP, but the red racing seat pushed the needle of my douche-O-meter juuuuusssst over the line. Maybe if the yellowhammer selling it (or whoever) had left it alone, it'd be worth it just for the exclusivity. Not now, though—the gauges and the steering wheel sprinkle way too much Pep Boys…

The part of me that lusts painfully after anything with a manual transmission (especially when said vehicle can't normally be had with one—Chevrolet Trax, I'm looking at you, you anemic soulless pile of rat shit) cries out in orgasmic rapture at the sight of this thing.