Yea, right. Everyone knows you can’t squeeze those damn things anywhere. These things are like that one guitar in the movie Spinal Tap - don’t even look at them. I wear mittens to the grocery, transport them in bubble wrap and slice them open with the tip of a scalpel. Then I pitch the half that has turned to slime or…

Is the engine in these mounted longitudinal or transverse? Not that there’s much torque to generate torque steer ...

In the spirit of killing the past, I propose we do the right thing, lay down the phrase “Easter egg” and walk away into a new metaphor, written expressly for the moment.

I try hard to not be monolithic, but I find automatic sports cars to be irrelevant. Am I part of the car culture problem? Or am I just a predictable irritant when you have to review a car that only comes with a slushy?

Exactly! There are so many of these dads. You mean they haven’t had lunch and planned anything out? Are you flippin’ kidding?

Yep - too many “just can’t do that” signs in the court room and too much surveillance - the guards would have no choice but to quickly move in. There are way better ways this dad could have, say, talked to the guards transporting Nasaler from the courtroom to the jail or wherever, then walloped him there, since the…

Well, at least thanks for saving me from having to read this article.

Yes, your last sentence. Absolutely annoying when I’m headed somewhere in my “truck” - a 98 Sienna - behind an M3 driver who wants to blast through the 35 mph zone at 60, but I catch him while (nearly) observing the speed limit in the twisty section. Has happened more than once.

The first time I saw a Honda Del Sol, I thought it was mid-engined. Have never gotten over that dissonance between the packaging and the reality.

We’re deep in the age of concentrated enthusiasm, where all the scarce-data-point people (piles of cash, complete lack of perspective, rabid monomania, dim awareness of group economics, low tolerance for searching alternatives) converge. In other words ... wish I had one to sell.

What’s it with you and conversions lately? Trying to tell us something, Rob? Out with it.

I remember driving these. My sister had a 1980 320i. I’m a guy who doesn’t mind low-powered cars - I had a 1971 2002 at the time. The 320i just felt like a lump, despite the extra cog. Wallowed around corners with those heavy and ugly bumpers at the extreme ends. That upcoming generation of 3 and 5 series had some…

C’mon - you know the answer to this. You don’t need to buy a certain car. You need to buy a set of winter tires.
It’s so boring, being right.

Oh sorry, from the picture I thought this was the “Appalling Stories Of Car Abuse” story.

“After many a Summer” is a work of fiction by Aldous Huxley. Written in 1939. Interesting read, if this topic tickles you. I have a first edition. If you buy it from me for $39 million I might be able to fund my immortality.

Loss of brand value? Because your customer has demonstrated to the world that your car appreciates in price instead of losing value once it leaves the dealership?

I did! Amazing, because I hunted a Bavaria for a while. Loved those things.

Wow, that Porsche is Fuchs up.

Man, I am a sucker for cars with dual headlights. These Alfas, the Capri, the Stag, hell even the Peugot 505. They’re the high cheekbones of the automotive world.

So is it possible for a white person to not be racist, then? Most of us white folk don’t like being called a racist. I’ve never seen an article that tells me what a non-racist white person says. So if I acknowledge that racism exists and there are lingering and ugly race-based problems and that I have it easier in…