Leg cuff properly tucked under tongue. Nailed it.

If it doesn’t run again, then Soviet.

Wagons aren’t the ideal car for tossers. Two sedans/coups maybe, but not base-line wagons.

Squeaky clean.

Not a lot of color in cars these days. Grey’s, black, dark blues. In the 50’s everyone drove Skittles.

Mom jeans, plaid shirt, hipster beard, bent rear plate, seedy part of town and an mysterious enticement for cooks and waitstaff.... I see an “NCIS: Detroit” series in the making.

Wow. Beautiful.

The back seat of a Rolls Royce with Stan Getz on the sound system, my shoes off, a big mild cigar and stiff drink.

That’s a step up from yellow caution tape seen at most rallies.

Looked pretty dead to me.

Two.

They were always fun on the streets. They did take frequent Lucas-induced naps, though.

An old rule of thumb I followed was to keep any car displaying the words” British Leyland” far away from automated car washes.

That’s a catch fence? It looks like screen door material.

Darwin.

Aisle 3, Pep Boys.

There are a few people I work with who show up dead quite often.

Someone should do a research article on the I.Q.’s, (or lack there of...) on the morons who line the sidewalks and curbs where such automotive asshattery is on display. Evidently it’s a weekly assemblage of idiocy around the globe.

What the f*&^ did they think was going to happen. Who ships a car like that on Jeb Clampett’s truck?