Nothing, if it’s a Tesla company vehicle.

That’s no rock-hopper. That’s some concrete cowboy’s chrome plated cock extension.

See, I’m more from the lease it new instead of buying it new school of thought.

I wish. It was the pretext for checking if I was wearing my seatbelt, then jacking me up for getting a Masshole DL and plates before he ran me in the next time.

No it’s not.

My favorite one was when a suburban Boston cop told me “I thought your license plates were expired, but they’re not.”

Dude, if you were watching “the epic battles of Petty and Pearson” you were watching NASCAR. That’s where they raced.

Looking at the waves in that right side door, the indifferent fit of the two pop-up headlights and the truly horrid fit of the trunklid makes this a solid No Dice at half the price.

Please. Clean up this article.

Establishing “personhood.” It’s a vital part of their whole “life begins at conception” argument.

Wrong answer.

Not sufficient ones.

There are way too many gun owners who have never raised a gun in anger ... and are more than a little bit disappointed by that fact.

Nice car. Stupid price. No Dice.

This may be a tumorous lump on wheels, but it’s a superbly engineered tumorous lump on wheels.

You’ve obviously considered this issue in detail for quite some time.

You can smoke when you write, but you need to edit sober.

That’s what I was marveling about in the lead picture.

I had just moved cross-country to suburban Boston — Belmont, for those of you who might know the area — arriving on a Saturday and driving to my first day of work on the following Monday. Rolling into town center, I see a local cop on the side of the road with a radar gun. I glance down at my speedometer, see I’m…

I stand corrected. By the exception that demonstrates the rule.