I mean, feel free to explain to little Janie all about your Randian jerkoff fantasy and how her mother is a leech on the system but Janie is eight and she’s hungry and she doesn’t understand why adults who have food won’t give her food when she’s hungry.

Not one of those leg-shaving spandex-swaddled assholes got off their bike to scratch her behind the ear and praise her for being such a good dog. Seriously, fuck those guys.

My own German interpretation of the classic British roadster. Not old enough to be a classic, but she’ll get there eventually. I grew up wanting a TR6 so badly.

I’d include the Spitfire in with the tough Triumph decision.

That's how you roadster, chums!