This is a very odd picture, and I’m not just talking about the ‘50 Nash Rambler convertible and its... everything.

The Henry J: As depicted with 3/4 scale people and gravitational lensing effects.

Well, gents, I think I’ve finally passed it. The point at which my Galaxie is a less suspect vehicle than my Benz. I wasn’t sure, so I developed a totally scientific table to prove it. An overall index of janky-ness, or the Jankmeter.

The weather beaten trail wound ahead into the dust racked climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense from…

Really fine older gentleman; I’d see him regularly at Wendy’s with his wife having lunch. He owned two Samurais, and owned some classic Fords in the past, including a Sunliner. I used to talk about my projects with Dennis - he had worked in a dealership. Just sad to hear he’s gone, that’s all.

Prop cars. All this time learning body panel techniques, fascinated with customs, love of unique cars, engineering and sheet metal background - why am I not doing that?

Ancient secrets of loony Ford things from 58 years ago within (paging Jarod Rose):

I blame the Wikipedia article on coach convertibles for letting me know. Also, where is the eyebleach?

*lays out ImmoralMinority bait, retires to duck blind*

You need a new beater? I have an amazing suggestion:

coz i do

#keepoppoweird I think goes without saying.

Mark Hamill dances at midnight.