“To roll hard I had to put the stick underneath my knee”

Me too. Job well done, Mr. Torchinsky, and carry on.

Donuts around the nose of an airborne Ford Rapture are a sure sign that we’re approaching Peak Hoon.

What does it look like when it’s normal? CP.

Concur.

Concur.

Carroll. Trust me.

Don’t get me wrong — it’s cool that it’s there, but with the Humungus and the yowies and the kangaroos and the flying snakes, I’d take my chances at an old Cold War runway in Germany.

Even before I read it I was sure that any responsible, warp-capable civilization’s wheeled vehicles would be DSes or DS-derived.

“Donald Trump, a rooster who wandered into the house and has to be restrained beneath a metal wastebasket”

No surprise here. I always suspected that giraffes were too easy to understand.

Concur in full about Formula-E, and this is a peeve of mine about motor sports in general so I’m going to rattle on about it tediously for a few paragraphs:

God, I know... I’d be getting tire pressure readings from NASA before I even touched that thing!

Finally, a lifetime’s worth of choices designed to eliminate the possibility of getting trapped in a cable car high above the French Alps near Chamois is justified.

The first image returned from a future space probe to the French Mormon Heaven Planet.

The force is telling me Chevy S-10, but then again, that’s it’s answer to almost every serious question.

First a launchpad explosion of a massive rocket and now the brand-affirming inclusion of his logo on party club drugs. What else could be on this man’s bucket list?

You have to be able to stand up and walk, even if just a bit. The tackle box and beer cooler need to be on the floor, where they belong.

Concur.

As a doctor of law and journalism, I’ll have to weigh in to say that anybody “outing” someone in print as a prostitute had damn well better have a receipt and/or videotape.