“That was sick! I’m never washing this hair again!”

Now it’s a Huracan’t.

If a NASCAR fan were flying the Confederate Flag, wouldn’t that be about as disrespectful toward the American Flag as anything in the history of America?

I used to like this comment. I still do, but I used to too.

That’s the thing about comments of the day: they’ve already been made on another article today.

I wish people who “film” in portrait mode would get knocked to the ground and beaten into unconsciousness.

Sir, this is a Wendy’s drive-thru.

I was waiting and hoping that Mazda would shove the speed3 drivetrain in the 5 and sell a Mazdaspeed5 to us handful of complete weirdos who would be into that.

She is performing a public service - she knows Mustangs kill people, so she refuses to have one in her video. This song even has the warning: “Mustangs.......Gonna hit you like lightning”

The worst/most painful part is how he scrapes on his ventral (belly & dong side) for 40-50 feel before the grass mercifully stops him.

I’m always tempted to take advantage of the great deals for time-trial bikes—more than 50% off— from my local bike shop, but here’s yet another reason why you should always reconsider…

Could be rotating triangle?

Chella of the Black Ears demands Trial By Combat.

Imagine a future where this occurred.

How is it that Jalopnik hasn’t sent a reporter to an NHRA event? Watching a Top Fuel car make a pass is one of the coolest automotive experiences out there.

Oh come on. If I wanted the facts I would have just read the original story! What fun is that?

This shit is why I still slow down and I look most of the time that I have a green light. Yes you’re right, it’s your right of way, and the other guy is an asshole if they run the light, but being right doesn’t keep you from dealing with the consequences of several tons of metal slamming into you.

First rule of fish club: You do not talk about fish club.

In some parts of Michigan, this would be the feather-weight class.

Ironically, it looks more like a diamond now.

Enter, sand man.