All my stars!
All my stars!
I remember riding on the top of a friend’s old Ford station wagon hanging on to the luggage rack while racing down old power line roads in the middle of the night. And yes, a certain magic fungus may have been involved.
Ferry ferry; I’m on a boat, on a boat, in a car!
Wet farts cause skid marks.
AND that $8k is a marked up make a killer profit price from what? It’s that number and the reason for it that keeps the Crack pipe blazing for me. This had to have been a $3500 AMG just a month or so ago. That stripe is nothing but a Band-Aid on a hemophiliac in a trauma center.
Long extension cords.
Hot knives without hash; what’s the point?
Officer cool as a cucumber: “I cannot believe that worked.”
“You’ve got two empty halves of coconut and you’re bangin’ ‘em together.”
Air is expensive terrain to wheel on.
Bet me.
“Simple” is where they’re going to miss the mark.
A more serious question than it may sound: Who’s next?
I’m not sure the wife would be too happy about giving the Grandkids shrooms.
“ ...I won’t get hyped until the production model is shown.”
But what would become of the Wheel of Adjectives?
The Neo-X Concept ( 1 up from bottom) would be my perfect incognito cruizer. It would be a great sleeper.
It’s only kinky the first time.
Which leads me down the Corvair rabbit hole.
My 2017 resolution is to drive the vehicles I have more.