HOLY SHIT DO I MISS DRIVING

One of the perks of sitting on Ex-Roomie's cats/cat sitting, is use of her sweet ride. It's fairly modest, a little black Hyundai sedan, but on the right day, at the right time, it's such a fun ride. Today was that day and I "celebrated" by rocking De La Soul's "The Grind Date" at maximum volume.

All I needed to do was to run a few errands around the 'hood, but I kept taking the long way around, just to prolong removing the key from the ignition. And it got me thinking...I need to work even fucking harder than I have been, so I can afford my dream-ish ride, which is a 1998-ish Volvo 850 Turbo wagon. Specifically in black. Like this example...

Picasso had his canvases...this is mine (one day). I'd murder that bitch out, dump it down an inch or too, stick some sweet 20" rims on it and tear ass all over the North Side of Chicago like I was the son of an alderman. It would have a 5-speed manual transmission, the better to redefine the concept of "drove it like you stole it". For now, spandex laden asshole bikers are safe.

PS - I would accept a Lotus Elise as a substitute (my birthday is only 5 months away!).

MY EX-RIDES

It's been nearly a year since I have survived without an automobile of my own; sure, my friends have been overly generous in allowing me to borrow their vehicles, and I am beyond grateful for the privilege. But it's not the same as having a ride of my own. I get emotionally attached to automobiles. I give then names, polish them and feel more than a slight tinge of physical pain when they get dinged or damaged.

But you know what? I'm so fucking glad I don't have a car to fret about these days. The city is cracking down HARD on all types of shit, and you only need to have 2 outstanding tickets before they will boot you know. It's such bullshit. And don't get me started on the Red Light cameras.

But whenever I see a car that I used to have, it makes me nostalgic, sad and even angry. Let's take a look at the 3 rides I have previously owned and loved the shit out of.

1998 VW Jetta GT (aka Jettadia I)

This was not a fast car, as it only produced roughly 125 HP, but I worked that 5-Speed tranny like my life depended on it. And it was my first car! The feeling I felt while driving it home from the dealership was intense, I still remember the smell even. It was not easy giving it up at the end of it's lease, and I still wish I had it, because even though it would be a 11 year old piece of shit, it still rocked.

2002 VW Jetta GL (Jettadia II)

My fetish for German cars continued unabated, to the point that a deal breaker was the color (gotta be black). It was also slow, but perfectly capable, and the blue/red interior lighting scheme was the shit. Unfortunately, it literally burned my ass once. The seat heater over heated and literally left a mark on my ass. That sucked. But I drove that fucker from Chicago to LA and back, and damn man, I still remember pulling to the side of the road in Monument Valley. Fucking amazing.

2006 Acura RSX Type-S

When I bought this car I was so fucking hungover. But I was insistent on getting a great deal (always buy a car near the end of the month when salesmen are eager to make their numbers). I went to one dealership, than a competing one. I took a salesman's business card, and wrote down the offer, than took it back to the first dealer...and they totally fucking caved! God, that car was sweet, fast as hell and so good looking in that paint color. Of course, "Lil Bad Ass" was bad news...rear ended 3 times, wheel stolen, side swiped and ultimately jacked all together. Sigh. It was not meant to be.

So now my "ride" is the bus, or the train or my feet (or my bike, although that didn't turn out so well!). But it's all good. Having a car in Chicago is such a source of stress, not to mention excessively expensive. I really miss shifting a manual transmission though...it was an unlikely source of pride.

I GOT YELLED AT BY A MARINE TODAY

Earlier today I embarked upon a specific tradition of mine, one common to those of us that are fucked over by this Midwestern winter weather...and also those that like CARS!

Modesty was in vogue this year, and as such, the "hottest" ride I peeped was none other than the Navistar MRAP! It wasn't the sexiest car on the floor, but easily the most impressive.

If you look closely, there are signs on the side of that beast saying "NO INTERIOR PHOTOGRAPHY" which lead me to believe that I was cool to check out the inside of this thing.

WRONG!

First off, the door weighed at least a ton, literally, if not more. The "funny" involves after DUDE asked me to back off [SIR DO NOT ENTER THIS VEHICLE!!!], which I did...but he tried to do the "slam the phone down" equivalent(with a cell phone-so not satisfying); the difference being, DUDE could barely close the door I was NOT supposed to open!

AUDI'S NEW SNUFF FILM

Sometimes things other than images of people fucking turn me on, specifically well designed objects like a skyscraper, a pair of shoes or in this case, a REALLY FAST FUCKING CAR. The Audi R8 Spyder is a member of my masturbatory dream garage and now they made it even better. The 5.2L v10 pumping out 525HP and 391LB-FT of torque is still there, as is the aluminum space frame, only now they ripped the rood off. Praise Jesus. Seriously. I know people always embed stupid clips of random shit on blogs, but the 90-second film below is super fucking neat-o. Check it out!

Anyone got $150,000 to loan me? I really need a car and this one suits me perfectly. It's wildily impracticable, it guzzles gas like Pierre Fitch guzzles cock and would you look at those LCD headlamps!!! I WANT! As if you haven't already noticed, this car brings out my inner 12 year old. Which I think is the point of cars like this. Well, that and to get laid like, 8 times day. Which would actually be a necessity since the sound of the mid-engine would make my dick hard.

PS - I'll settle for the hard top version too. Or a Lamborghini Gallardo LP560-4 (both are very much the same under the skin).

PPS - I think I should get a job writing copy for car ads. Audi? HELLO!

MY NEW NEW OLD WHIP

Yeah, a 1992 Chevy S-10 Blazer is my new whip, although the term "hooptie" comes to mind. It's actually battleship grey, with HUGE gaping rust holes and an exhaust, or lack thereof that announces my eventual arrival within a 6 block radius.

And guess what? It's FUCKING DYNO-MITE! So the deal is, I'm paying my buddy (it's really his ride) the equivalent of what I would pay to use public transportation to get back/forth on the weekends. It's SO much faster.

Added bonus: not having to nervously wait for untold periods of time on a street corner near a not-so-good area at 4AM/avoiding being beaten, robbed, shot and/or stabbed (as a side note - 2 people in my neighborhood have been murdered leaving their bar jobs late at night, and my 'hood is considered one of the safest).

And get this: it's somewhat of a pussy magnet. Seriously. Last weekend I was driving to work, stuck at a stoplight in Lakeview, and these 2 girls totally hit on me, like, 3 times. Like what? Who is attracted to scrawny white guys smoking and listening to R.L. Burnside in a rusty Chevy truck?

Move along ladies! Maybe some cute boys will dig it. Probably not.

PS - It's SO much better than my future sister-in-law's Saturn.

PPS - It's mechanically similar to my awesomely trashy "dream car".

I REALLY WANT A 1993 GMC TYPHOON

This was the first thought that bubbled to the surface of my brain when I awoke this morning, and since it bears repeating, let's review: I REALLY WANT A 1993 GMC TYPHOON! I totally forgot about the still present hard-on I seem to harbor for this vehicle.

For those that don't know, allow me to dish some specs:

-4.3 Liter Turbo V6

-280+ HP/360+ lb. ft. of torque

-0-60MPH in 5 seconds flat

Even by today's standards that's fucking fast as shit. 16 years ago, it was positively mind blowing, especially in light of the fact that this was capable of a modified GMC Jimmy, (a very humble vehicle).

Somewhere/someone trolling in relative obscurity at General Motors thought, "hey, what can fascinate adolescent boys who like to draw pictures of cars named Justin"? Oh yes! Let's rock the shit out of a mediocre SUV, so that it can run against a Ferrari 348 and win! I would NOT be surprised if a 14 year old boy actually designed this thing.

Even before I obtained a driver's licence, I would see one particular example of this rare bad-ass ride parked within the 'hood I lived in at the time (BG in the hizz-ous!) and upon approach, I would actually ask my Mom or Dad (whoever was driving) to slow down so I could fog up the windows.

It was and still is a ridiculous answer to a fucked-up question no one ever asked. And I want one. Like 5 minutes ago. DANG!

PS - Yeah, I just said "dang". Out loud. And no one else is around. So what? Who cares?

MY "NEW" WHIP

And by "my" I mean it's my brother's girlfriend's car that she has graciously allowed me to borrow. What's that term about not looking a "gift horse" in the mouth? I have no idea. But I do know that although this piece of shit is better than humping the bus.

Still, after smoking a hot piece of ass like my former ride, this seems unjust. Although it's clocked barely 58,000 miles, it screams in agony when asked to do modest things, like steer, brake or accelerate (if I ever find who stole my baby, he or they will lose a testicle, or 2).

When steering straight on, the steering wheel rests at a 45 degree angle. None of the right side doors lock. And it staggers to life when I twist the key. Oh, and it reeks of her dog. Am I bitching? Yes. Should I be? No.

Really, I'm trying my best not to be a little bitch, but...I'm driving a car with plastic wheel coverings! NOT FAIR! I thought if I did everything right, as in getting a decent education, showing up (mostly) to work on time, not being a douche bag, things would take care of themselves.

Never in my wildest, unforeseen dreams/nightmares would I think my life would result in driving a FUCKING Saturn. Ever. The irony is that I learned how to drive stick on my brother's Saturn coupe (oxymoron!) and hated that green-ish POS. UGH. I used to have an Acura, owned 2 VW's Jettas, rocked a Trans-Am and not one but 2 Mercedes Benz 300E's.

I guess I'm just a sore loser. :(

AT LEAST I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE

Today I finally relented and picked up a rental car (in case you're wondering, a smokin' hawt Nissan Sentra, I am SO getting laid this weekend with that hot piece of ass!). While the Enterprise guy was filling out the necessary paperwork, he asked me what happened to my car. I expected him to be mildly shocked or something, but nope. Not only was I not the only person to have their ride jacked, I WAS THE FOURTH PERSON that day picking up a car due to vehicular theft. 

And get this: one guy picked up a rental car a few days ago because his ride was stolen...and then someone stole his rental car! Oh man, that guy's karma must be seriously fucked. I realize living in a big city comes with it's risks, car theft being one of them. But the Enterprise guy said in the last few weeks there has been a huge increase on car theft. Who knows if this is due to the shit state of the economy, or swine flu or what-fuck-else-ever, but we are certainly living in interesting times. 

"YOU'RE CAR HAS BEEN RENDERED A TOTAL LOSS"

That was the first sentance of the letter I received today from my insurance company. I thought perhaps this was some sort of a resolution. Not so. They are merely complying with some random state law about stolen vehicles. They still have not found (what's left of) my car, nor have they given up whatever they consider to be "hope". No. It'll be at least 3 more weeks before they make any final determination about my $26,500 loss. In the mean time, I am expected to make payments. On a car I no longer posses. FUCK. ME.  

On the plus side, I think my ass is enjoying all the walking I've been having to do. So there's always that. 

SOMEONE FUCKING STOLE MY FUCKING CAR! FUCK!

That's right. As if I don't have enough bullshit to deal with right now, someone decided they needed an Acura RSX more than I do, and promptly relived me of THE CAR THAT I LOVED. Fuck man. FUCK! 

Yesterday I woke up and wrote a list of shit I need from Target. It was a typically gray Chicago spring day, gloomy and drizzly, made even more so by the pile of broken glass that rests next to where my car used to. 

It took awhile to sink in, and I thought that maybe I had forgotten where I had parked. Even though I knew in heart that it was pointless, I still walked around the neighborhood, searching in vain for the car that I knew was long gone. 

I imagine it's already on blocks somewhere on the West Side, being stripped for parts. And the thought makes me want to cry, but instead I'm keeping on a brave face. Budweiser helps too. Lots of it. 

I swear the shit I've been through with this car. Remember this? Or a year before then when someone jacked one of my wheels? Or the $500 I just sunk into it for new brakes. I'm ALMOST relieved, but not quite. The day was drawing near for me to turn it in (it's leased) and I was preparing myself for my first car-less summer in 10 or so years. But I wasn't ready yet! 

In a minor bit of cruel irony, the largest shard of glass left on the street is the "anti-theft" symbol from the passenger side window. Seeing that made my blood fucking boil. But now, at this point I'm just so exhausted dealing with the Police, the Insurance and the Finance people. And I know that the real fun is only about to begin. UGH. 

THE INFINTI ESSENCE IS HAWT

If I could be anywhere on the planet today, I'd have an easy decision on my hands: the 79TH International Motor Show in Geneva. Last year, in some post I can't seem to locate, I predicted that I wouldn't miss this years show. Obviously that didn't work out, but I have spent the afternoon reading about and oogling the dreamy new cars. Although the Aston Martin One-77 is re-dunk-u-lous and would look lovely parked next to a Rolls 200EX in my dream garage, what I really aspire to own, is this concept from Infiniti: The Essence (cheesy name).

Someone at Nissan had the brilliant idea of plucking the insane motor from a GT-R and supplementing it with a 150-HP electric motor for a combined 600 or HP. I'm about to commit automotive heresy, but here goes: THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CAR EVER. More so than the famed Bugatti Type 57 Atlantic (click here to see Ralph Lauren's whip). Those suitcases? Louis Vuitton. Whew. Just LOOK at that crease between the A and C pillars! Desperately gorgeous...

PRIDE (FOR JACK)

Per Jack's request, I will now willingly commit the sin of pride...automotive pride that is. I am full of random ability, but I am particularly PROUD of my driving abilities. Recently I had to re-up on my car insurance and I was pleasantly reminded that I have ZERO points on my license [knock on wood] which is something of an achievement for someone who once piloted a purple Lincoln Continental while high on LSD.

I'm thinking part of the reason for my driving prowess was the result of the first pair of autos I had access to. Below is a 1996 Pontiac Trans Am. This was my mother's car and it had a 275-HP V-8 and T-Tops. She gave me driving lessons in a pet cemetery. Seriously. Giving a car like this to a 16 year old guy is akin to handing out a .357 Magnum lacking a lock. Oh how I pine for the days when I used to SMOKE assholes in Ford Mustangs. Fuck 'em.

My other teenage whip was my father's 1997 Mercedes-Benz 300E. This, my friends, is a fucking CAR! It wasn't that fast, nor luxurious, but I'll be damned if it wasn't bullet proof. Few people outside of the American Midwest can fathom how dicey driving in the winter can be, and yet this car just oozed confidence. I really liked the head lamp washers too (which I just noticed this image lacks)!

My greatest driving feat was safely transporting my person from Chicago to LA. That's 2,000 miles kids, and at a certain point I got sick of being in the car with MYSELF. Thank God I was alone, otherwise I would have left even my best friend for dead somewhere near the continental divide. 

When people ask me what I want to do when I "grow up" I respond without hesitation and shout "RACE CAR DRIVER". I'm not kidding. If I had few grand to blow I wouldn't donate it to charity (feel free to interject here Gloria :)) I would piss it away at Skip Barber Racing School. Really, this possibility is what gets me out of bed in the morning (fuck it - I'm already going to hell). All I need is an understanding benefactor to make this happen. 

This great dream of mine might be drawing close sooner than I think. My lithe metallic boyfriend (my Acura RSX Type-S) is set to be returned in less than 5 months and it scares the shit out of me. After I get over the initial shock I think I'll acquire a Volvo 850 R. I've always been horny for that bitch (just not in yellow - paint it black YO). 

UM, yeah, so, I don't know if I fulfilled Jack's requirements. This basically just turned into my jerking off about cars... 

CAR + MOTORCYCLE = ARIEL ATOM

Yesterday I was filling the tiny tank of my car and I started thinking about how insane gas prices are. This week a report was released that declared the most expensive gasoline in the US was sold right here in Chicago, averaging north of $4 a gallon.

Though my car specifies premium fuel I compromise and use mid-grade which means that to fill 3/4 of my tank costs about $42.00 - money that could be better spent on clothes, booze or concert tickets. But I digress.

This got me thinking about different transportation alternatives. My lease is up in 12 months and I've been pondering it's eventual replacement. I could go the hybrid route and opt for a Prius, or perhaps purchase an economical diesel, such as a VW Golf TDI.

But frankly, I'd rather die than drive a jelly bean shaped hybrid or another VW (I've had 2 thus far, and although I liked both, the new ones are overweight, overpriced and over-ugly).

So what then? A motorcycle is an interesting alternative, one that would use little gasoline and would afford me the speed which I have become accustomed to. Problem is, bikes scare the living shit out of me, especially driving in Chicago traffic.

What I've found is in my mind the perfect "hybrid". A vehicle with 4 wheels with the speed and efficiency of a motorbike...ladies and gentlemen, behold, the mighty ARIEL ATOM!

Powered by a Honda KOA2 engine of which I have become familiar (the same mill found in my current ride), supercharged it so it develops 300HP and bolt it to a chassis that doubles as an exoskeleton weighing a total of 1,400LB, and you have a whip capable of going rocketing you to 60MPH in 2.9 seconds. Gah-Damn!

The only car faster is the mighty (and insanely expensive) Bugatti Veyron. For about E43,000 (as in Euro) you can obtain a fuel slipping time machine that may lack doors, windows or a roof, but will instill fear in anything you are likely to encounter on a public roadway.

Of course getting valid plates can be an issue, but nothing this AWESOME should come easy. Some production bikes may be faster in a straight-away, but the most fun one can have on four wheels comes when one defies physics and can pull mad G's in turns.

Need proof? Watch this video of Top Gear's Jeremy Clarkson at the 3 minute mark when his face is literally peeled back from the rush provided courtesy of the Atom. This thing is fucking SICK!

WOOT! MY CAR IS FIXED!

After getting my hopes up several times, today's call from the body shop was not a pointless update ("sir, you're car is still being repaired, no, we don't know when it will be done", etc). Instead they told me that my car was fixed and ready to go home!

I left work early and drove over the body shop, where my no longer fucked up baby was glinting the sun. Sigh, I fell in love all over again...

It's in better shape then now then before it sideswiped, seeing as the that rim is new (and free of any road rash) and is the rear bumper (which had all sorts of dings from parallel parking) not to mention the rear quarter panel, door, mirror, window and most of the rear suspension.

The final total was $7,333.02, of which I had to charge $500 to my plastic, which totally sucks but hey, that federal rebate check will cover that and leave me with some money to blow on shoes, clothes or maybe even a tattoo.

After signing the paperwork and doing an inspection (they left wax in a few places, you think I'm not going to notice that shit?) and I got in, started her up and forgot how sensitive the gas pedal can be and nearly peeled out of the garage into traffic. Oops.

On the short drive home I decided to BUMP the speakers with a The Rapture's "House of Jealous Lovers". It's Friday, I got a drink in my hand and the Cubs are playing. I need to get my ass to a bar. But before I do (or before you do) enjoy some music!

THE NEW WHIP!

Now, I know what you're thinking, "Justin, how did you acquire such a fine automobile?" The answer was this lavish Chrysler Pacifica. Yup, I decided that instead of a sleek, low slung sports car, I'd replace it with a Mini-van disguised not so convincingly as a SUV thats really a glorified station wagon.

And in cased it's not painfully evident, it's a piece of shit.

OK - I didn't actually buy it, this my rental for the next few weeks while my Baby is at the body shop. It seems that the Motherfucker that hit my car caused enough damage the body shop estimates it will about 2 weeks before they fix it up.

I naively thought that the damage was mostly cosmetic, but I was wrong. When I drove in to the body shop for an estimate, one of the guys working there pointed out that the rear right wheel that was on an angle. Which means suspension damage. Ugh.

Though annoyed and exhausted, I'm trying to remain in good spirits. After all, no one got hurt (that is until I find the person responsible and rearrange his facial features with a Louisville Slugger). And thus far everything has been a breeze.

The insurance company has been awesome, the body shop guys were empathic and the renting of that God-Awful car/truck thing was painless (with the exception of having to pay $16 a day for the insurance - that's kind of a bitch). Also, my friend lent me his sweet Mini Cooper! I love that car! Thank you friend!

The only static I got was when I filed a police report yesterday. Man, that cop was not so friendly. Because my situation required him to fill out a ton of paperwork, he made no effort whatsoever to mask his complete resentment of my very being. Basically, he was a dick.

But I'm moving on and putting that ugliness behind me. And in the meantime, that Chrysler is going to be driven like the fat bitch she is (apologies to any readers that drive a Pacifica). I want my car back!

FUCKING FUCK!

Fuck. Someone hit my fucking car last night. Fuck! Look at this shit! Ugh, not happy about this at all.

I parked on the left side on a one way street, and it appears that someone driving at a high rate of speed, going the wrong way, plowed into my car. I have insurance, obviously, but fuck if this isn't lame.

There are pieces of brake light embedded into my passenger door, which no longer opens. That side mirror, that I so carefully folded in (as I always do) now points north, rendering it inoperable.

At least I can still drive it, but still. This is not good. Looks like more money will be evaporated from my savings account. And, I have to go to the police station to file a report. Fuck.

SOME SHIT I LIKE, SOME SHIT I DON'T

For whatever reason I find myself incapable of completing a blog post of any true substance, so I thought I'd take a moment on reflect on some shit I like and some shit I don't right now...

1. Home Alone

Not the movie, but living alone. While I was in Denver, Roomie left to embark on another archeology adventure, so for the past week, this week, and the next one I can walk around naked, leave empty beers cans where I please and blare RAWK in the morning while I get ready for work. It's pretty fucking awesome.

2. Masturbation

This might go hand in hand with #1 (pun intended) but on Sunday afternoon, I took a break from being lazy and got busy with my Right Hand Man. Not sure what happened, but I managed to give myself an EPIC orgasm. To paraphrase a line from "Fight Club", "I haven't fucked myself like that since High School".

3. Edgewater Produce

I loathe the Dominick's near me (for you non-Chicagoans, that's our version of Safeway, and it blows). It's expensive, the produce is awful and the shelves are frequently empty. So, on Sunday I went to a little neighborhood place called Edgewater Produce. I got 3 huge, tasty tomatoes, 2 onions that made me cry, 1 pound of turkey breast, 1/2 pound of cheese, 2 cucumbers, a head of lettuce bigger than mine, a loaf of wheat bread, 20 fresh tortillas and a bag of taco cheese. For $17 and change. Fucking TITS!

4. Top Gear

This is one of the most popular shows in the world, though largely unknown in the States. Basically, it's a weekly, hour long program produced by the BBC, and it's all about cars. I just watched an episode where the 3 presenters flew to Miami with a challenge to buy 3 cars, for $1000 each. They then drive their jalopies to New Orleans and get fucked with Red Necks in the Florida Panhandle. Needless to say, it's amusing. Also, I have a crush on Richard Hammond.

5. A Clean Ride

The weather was so awful in January and February I neglected to get my bitch washed. It got so bad on the inside that said "fuck it" and started smoking in it. But leaving work last Thursday, the weather was nice and I couldn't take the mess anymore, and I stopped by a hand wash place. For $10, a team of guys scrubbed both the exterior and interior. It looks like new and no longer smells like smoke.

Now, some shit I don't like...

1. The Litter Box

Seeing as Roomie is not around to clean the Cat's Shit Box, this glamorous task is now mine. A long time ago I had 2 cats, but Roomie's 2 cats produce an astounding amount of piss and shit. I think they produce more "waste" than I do, and my shit don't stink like their's does. Just tonight I cleaned out the Shit Box, and recoiled in horror when I took the lid off the damn thing. Gross, disgusting, obscene...

2. Car Payment(s)

When I checked my bank account the other day, it seemed I had too much money in there. When I got my monthly statement from my lessor, I realized why; the payment I scheduled last month never went through, thus I had to make a double payment. Rather than having an excess of funds, I have quite the opposite now. This fucking sucks.

3. Bro's New GF

Until about a month ago my older Brother was dating an awesome girl, but for whatever reason, their relationship ended after 2+ years. On Sunday I was introduced to the reason why, and her fucking name is fucking "Heather". Ugh. She wears bright red lipstick, dresses like a Skater Boy, and from my limited exposure, she sucks at life. I love my Brother, but sometimes it amazes me we're from the same gene pool.

4. Sleep

It seems the more I get the more tired I am. Last night I turned out the lights around 11:30 (anything before Midnight is early for me) and despite the 8+ hours of deep sleep I got, I woke up exhausted. What the shit is that? Not cool. I could chalk it up to the shitty weather today, but really, that shouldn't matter. Tonight, I intend to stay up until at least 1AM and see if that helps.

5. Dealer's

Who do I have to blow in this city to get a bag of weed? Not like I'm jonesin' but it would be nice to be able to get high, bump some Jay-Z while making dinner and retire to my Front Room and watch some of the Netflix DVD's that have piled up. I suppose I can do this sober, but really, getting high in the comfort of your own home and watching some shit on the tube is pretty fucking great after a long day of work. Call me back shady dude!

Well, there you go...a brief insight into my life as of now. On the balance, I'm pretty happy with things, but that doesn't mean I can't bitch once in awhile too. After all, I am a white American male, and as such, prone to complain over stupid shit.

BRABUS BULLIT BLACK ARROW

As a friend and I wandered around Cobo Hall in January during the Detroit Auto Show, we were discussing the current "horsepower" war being waged among the German car makers.

Sure, Germany's automakers are making various attempts at "green" vehicles, but let's be serious folks, what the Germans truly excel at, is making insanely fast sedans.

Case in point, the current Mercedes Benz's AMG performance arm stuffed 6.2 liter V-8 into the nose of a C-Class sedan (which is roughly the size of Honda Civic). It produces a prodigious 451 horsepower and 443 pound-feet of torque and sprints from 0-60MPH in 4.5 seconds. Pretty damn fast by any measure.

Well, for those of you that crave a little more "go", the German tuning company Brabus recently introduced it's take on a high performance C-Class sedan, and more or less bitch slapped their AMG counterparts in the process. This week, at the Geneva Auto Show, they pulled the sheet off their craziest model yet...the mighty Brabus Bullit Black Arrow....

How does this sound: take a 5.5 liter V-12, bore and stroke it out to 6.3 liters and strap not 1, but 2 turbos to it? Is that something you might be interested in? Oh, and did we mention it's dripping with matte finish black paint?

FUCK and YES.

The only logical reason that I can think for the existence of this car is a coke-and-stripper-fueled party took place in a seedy Stuttgart hotel room that lasted 3 days too long (also, I think Rammstein may have been present, just a guess).

That Heart of Darkness is capable of producing a "are-they-fucking-serious" 730 HP and a "holy-shit-they-are" 974 LB FT of torque. It'll run 0-60 MPH in 3.9 seconds and top out at 225 MPH (360 KM/H). There is a safety mechanism in the form of a switch that reduces the output of torque to "only" 811 LB FT, presumably so you don't incinerate the tires.

On the inside, anything not covered in leather, is covered in carbon fiber, and anything else that remains is covered in Alcantara (it's like suede, but more durable).

I'll admit it, I am not man enough to drive this car. Even tapping the accelerator is likely to produce an unintended burnout, the likes of which would invariably frighten men, woman and children alike.

Still, I want one! NOW! PLEASE! Unfortunately, it's slightly out of my price range: E348,000, or around $690,000. For something capable of hurtling you to 186 MPH in 24.5 seconds, it almost seems like a bargain.

Mental note to self: Go THE GENEVA MOTOR SHOW in 2009!

I WANT A CAMARO!

TO: SANTA CLAUS
FROM: JUSTIN (THE ONE IN CHICAGO)
SUBJECT: Hey Fat Ass - Buy Me a Fucking Camaro!

Hey Santa,

I fully realize you just made your rounds and all that; however, I figured I would be proactive and try to level with you. So here's the deal...if I promise to say "fuck" once every 10 minutes instead of every 5 AND only masturbate with my left hand...can I have a new Camaro?

I'll even volunteer at a soup kitchen if that's what it takes. And recycle. Oh...and plant some trees, and, um, how else can I offset my potential carbon footprint? Fuck it, I'll fill the bitch with E85 until that shit runs out.

Soooo, Santa, let's talk how you're going to trick out "Gloria"...

First, the paint job. Matte black with silver skunk stripes. Non of that glossy stuff. Flat. Black. Paint. With the aforementioned stripes on the hood and trunk only...

A tight ride needs hot skates...so, since I like those rims let's keep 'em, but can you put 19's on the front and 20's on the back? Yes? Word! You better be writing this down...

Those tiny mirrors have got to go. I'd never be able to parallel park with those Chiclet's. I'm all for bringing the sexy back, but come on, we got to be practical!

Ohhh, my favorite design feature, frame-less doors sans B-pillars. So hot on a hot summer night. Also, great for throwing garbage cans at mailboxes...

Ahh, the lovely interior that I plan on destroying with cigarettes, cheap cans of beer and sex with strangers. Santa, if you really love me you'll install both a broken 8-track that only plays Lynard Skinner and an MP3 line for my Nano.

Oh, one more thing...8-ball knob on the shifter? Word!

Promise to do my best (worse) but let's let the carrot lead the, uh...horse.

Love ya Santa,

Justin (let's do this!)

PS - The first 2 pics were taken by yours truly at the 2008 North American Auto Show.

BEEN ROLLIN' SINCE 85'!

How much of a car dork am I?

Well, I first drove a car when I was 7 years old. My Father's parents had stopped by. It was a sunny day and I could not resist the white Ford Mustang Convertible, glistening in the sun, parked on my driveway.

Though I was years away from obtaining the proper license to operate said vehicle, I climbed in the driver's seat, which if memory serves, was covered in white vinyl (Reagan was in office, ya know).

This amounted to my first time driving a stick shift. Naturally, I released the parking brake, and having no expectations, was surprised after I rolled into the 'across the street' neighbors freshly sodded lawn.

DAMN!

Crying followed, to say nothing of my future preference for German and/or Japanese automobiles.

Such early impressions tend to stick with you, and that's all I'll say about that...

PS - I drove a stick shift Ford Mustang GT convertible approximately 13 years later and the bad taste in my throat lingered...the clunky transmission did anything BUT make my nipples hard.

Psssh...