$1500 in LA gets you a shitty apartment in the valley where your bad ass super car will get stolen or otherwise fucked with.

Also, do you really want to be the person who lives in a crappy apartment and drives a supercar?

Bruh.

And in the purest tradition of morning car meetings, this is how it ends

There’s nobody in the car.

I mean... if anyone’s going to kick a torpedo...

My similar fantasy involves Juha Kankkunen punching me in the face for being a millennial.

You don’t kick babies off flights because they can’t help it. They are absolutely right to kick belligerent and obnoxious passengers off a flight.

all the nerds drive mclarens now

ANY car?

When I replaced my 44 HP ‘66 Beetle with a 60 HP ‘67 SAAB Monte Carlo. I was like “Whoa Nellie!”