The Porsche still has the manual transmission box checked, so I’m ok with it.
In SoCal, you can always hear the New Yorkers before you see them. (They’re the only ones using their horns when traffic backs up.)
This can really be expanded to “out of state plates” no matter where you are. New Yorkers and Ohioans in California, Californians in Oregon, Wisconites in Illinois and vice versa. The unspoken rules are generally so different state to state that anyone who doesn’t know them always sticks out like a sore thumb.
In LA, all you have to do is look at the emblems on the trunklid. If they say “Nissan” and “Altima” you can be assured they’ll be doing twenty over the limit, swerving through lanes and cutting people off without signaling. For some reason, the Altima has become the weapon of choice for the ven diagram overlap of…
Yes, but unless you’re a hardcore Honda fanatic, EG and EK have become a catch-all term to describe a certain generation of Civic, despite Honda’s naming conventions showing them to be much more specific than that.
I did this last time I was in Europe. In Ghent, Belgium I counted 27 manuals, 1 automatic on my way to breakfast.
The dust diggers look a lot like heavily modified (surplus?) B-wings. They do have open cockpits though, suggesting they’re purely atmospheric.
Tokyo drift is the sole reason I bought my first HDTV.
It always seems to be the cars that don’t need a function like this that gets them, sadly. Source: My Honda CR-Z disables Sport+ mode if you turn the wheel, clutch, shift, brake, or let off the gas. And that’s a car that needs all its 130hp at any given time.
Unless you can daily classics. The only cars I’ve ever had depreciate were under ten years old when I bought them. Every other car I’ve had has always managed to appreciate between two to seven times what I originally paid. That being said, it’s really nice to have a car with AC, Bluetooth, and bulletproof…
I lived by the huge one in Long Beach, CA, for nine years. I had some dude from Ohio chase me down because I was in the lane next to him, and according to him “it was all one lane.” (It’s actually three.) He chased me a block, and I pulled over. He hefted his sweaty Ohio mass out of his Chevy Malibu and ran up to my…