Literally every car in the left lane, directly in front of me.

Jeep. Wrangler.

I’ll betcha that while you’re watching a silent one, a noisy one will fuckin’ kill ya!

Could be the opening scene of his own personal Falling Down.

The instant a cop gives you shit for getting his badge number to complain, that’s when you should start doing that.

Napier Deltic!

To be fair, if I had a Versa I’d try to lose it in a foreign country too.

Are you tired of cleaning your race car windshield the old way?

... that story is definitely not where I thought you were going when you said that Solaras gave you headaches...

“Hi, my name’s Josh and I like candlelit dinners, parole violations, and long car chases on the beach.”

Or you could just comment on the correct article.

You can’t truly admire the beautiful Italian design of an Alfa until your parked on the side of the road waiting for a tow. Then you have lots of time to gaze at Guilia’s incredible figure and think dirty thoughts of what you’ll do when she’s back running again.

(sigh)

I’ll add sweat and tears, too. If you haven’t bled, sweated, and cried in your car, it’s not really yours. You’re just watching over it for the real owner.

If your car doesn’t have at least 10% of your own blood inside it, it isn’t operating at peak efficiency.

Back in the day, it was pretty much a dime separating each of the fuel grades. 1.97, 2.07 and 2.17. Now, nothing makes sense anymore.

Sorry, for me only a Citroën Visa satellite will do. I have the simplest tastes, I am always satisfied with the best.