Not just mousebelts–TURBO mousebelts.

Everyone is missing the joke and I’m not sure if it makes me want to laugh or cry.

I doubt that engine issue is anything complicated. This is a fuckload of 90's beach party for $2500. NP

This.

No, silly, don’t be so paranoid. If you can’t spell it you can’t burn it.

It’s sort of like giving Kate Upton breast reduction surgery and then saying ‘there, isn’t that better?’

This is criminally underrated. 

If it had a “Pontiac Vibe” it would look more like this.

Yo! Make sure that shoulder belt goes underneath that armrest on the seat belt-buckle side!

You actively read The Root don’t you?

Those four rings on teh grille are just a reminder of the brass knuckles you felt like you’ve been hit with when you have that first mechanical failure as an owner.

Fuck you. Fuck you. And. Fuck you.

4L60Es in general seem to have met a lot of untimely ends, all of the 4L60Es in my family have just straight up died catastrophically after 200k miles of average driving

Maybe it was just bad in these trucks. Lots of early trans death

1st Gear: Nobody Wants The Auto Tariffs

because those people are always assholes

I have a big ol’ soft spot for fat, soft, highway cruisers. I vividly remember driving around with my grandpa in his Riviera/Grand Marquis/88/etc. (traded every two years because he was best friends with the owner of the one dealer in the city, who had every American car marque sold), AC cranked down to subarctic…

The scariest detail in this story is that a Corvette is up to 3300 lbs

My wife drives one of these. I am under no illusions that it is worth 30 grand. But since she wants to drive a manual SUV, we will probably never sell it so who cares? It is an awesome ride for a Jalop woman who needs to cart around two kids and a huge dog, and refuses to drive an automatic.

Dude. So this. That “build it, don’t buy it” crap is so obnoxious. Civilization is possible only because we have division of labor. Nobody says “build it, don’t buy it” about their house, much less about their steak and corn flakes.

Or their divorce papers.

I make occasional forays into wrenching now and again*, but…