rotrod
RotRod
rotrod

Toyota's jab at the ze Germans.

So, you pull over and park by the side of the road, next to one of the innumerable street lamps. You whip out your little hose, plug in, fill the tanks, and then maybe stop for a wad of boiled mutton or whatever the hell they snacked on back then.

I've drunkenly fallen over in those things more often than I care to admit.

It's a dusting.

Buffalonian here, can confirm. But stop knocking our city, we're damn proud of it, no matter how cold it is and how lousy we are at sports

There you go.