i totally agree, but i also have to say that if i fully open the throttle at just the right time in a turn and the turbo kicks in just as i’m bringing the bike back up, i feel like God. a God that would have died if he had twisted the throttle that stupidly on a real motorcycle.

i don’t want any of that poser bullshit. i mean, i don’t want a tribute car.

i’ll do the math for you. foreclosures and bankruptcies stay on your credit for 7 years, and unless you bought a Toyota or Honda, cars start falling apart after about 4 years.

if you fold it right, you can wipe twice.

i drove a 500. my brother’s ex-wife made a point of sticking him with it in the divorce. two things stood out. i could hear things failing under the hood, and i felt like the designated driver on his way to pick up all of the other clowns for a night out.

I’d bet they knew that their readership would infer that the 500 must be a heap of crap too, and not belabor the point.

i kind of want to close the trunk of a Grand National on the back of his underpants and break the turbo on grandma’s V6. 

obviously it’s NP, because the price is up to 3800 now.

but people that empty trashcans at lambo dealerships might have stupid friends that drive mustangs.

my cousin has this really wide pizza oven that you can set the belt speed on.

“We call it The Pedestrian Stabber.” maybe one of those choo choo train cattle grates would be good.

yeah i kind of feel sorry for Musk, he’s about to find out that the mass market retail customer is a huge and horrible pain in the ass.

that model certainly didn’t. plus fuck that. the stock delicate spindly little shifter with the wooden nubs is cool. putting my XJ-S V12 in drive with my pinkie extended is almost as fun as walking other cars on the highway without dropping down a gear.

if you have receipts, i’ll give you 12k for it.

exactly. or you could have a Grand Wagoneer in fantastic shape that you can disconnect from a restored vintage canned ham camper for the the same price.

that car should go to the dry cleaners anyway.

I respect your right to love saw-toothed castle parapet plastic cladding, but I don’t understand your love for saw-toothed castle parapet plastic cladding.

I have to wonder about the safety of having millions of cars shooting lasers all around all the time.

I understand this reference.

My mom had a purple 1972 Datsun 510 wagon with a white interior that you had to slap on the tailgate like Fonzie to get it to open. My dad sold it 4 months before I turned 16. I’ll never get over that.