OK, now it’s real. After a few months of reading the output you jugheads foist on us, I convinced the wife that a 2-door SUV with a V8 from the good folks at Windsor was just the thing. So, you boys, you better fucking get this right.

so, since you’re desubscribing, or whatever, can I have your black text? Mine’s all grey.

This is what happens when I read this stuff...I mean, see, until just now, I didn’t know I was a C4 guy. But in realizing that, I also instantly realized that people will think it’s just because ZR1 (it’s not, but I did have a hot girlfriend with access to a Europa for one dreamy summer...). But I get it. I’m, once…

My other car is bicycle... and here in Portland, we celebrate the Tour of Flanders with our own hillclimb...so while I haven’t ever driven Brynwood, I can attest to its steepness.

Until a minute ago, I had always thought that the R5 Turbo from the days of my youth was a double-up. A near-lifetime of wrongness such as that must be why my comments are grey.

The Legacy was a poor replacement for the Lion. We had an 83 third-eye Leone during a stint in Hellsasshole, Wyoming. I was 16. It had an honest low range. Chaos ensued.

In 1982, my new stepmother sold my (family’s) 4-door 67 Mercury Caliente with a 289 to a stranger in a Rawlins, WY, Safeway parking lot for 200 bucks. I regret her non-regrets.

Sorry. Sky Captain all the way.

Mulva?

don’t feel bad about frowny neighbors: Whenever anyone talks about the worst roommate they ever had, it’s me they’re talking about. And I’m not even sorry.

A very long time ago, back when information was recorded on wood pulp, I was a writer who wrote about television. My very first interview in this capacity was with John Davis. I believe we chatted about the how very cab-forward the future looked. He’s a mechanical engineer by training, if memory serves, and a great…

It is strange that, never having ever driven one, AND the fact that it does generally speak to all that I love in automobiles, words (or numbers) cannot express how little I want one. Which is not hate. Just an utter absence of desire.