Drive By Shootings

This is the title of a book (the paper thing with words in it, Sarah). That click was one of my Canons (as in camera, not cannon). pictures from my car, or of things driving by.

Curbhunter Fails

Curbhunter: it’s not for the weak or stupid or poor. Unlike so many other things in my life lately, two of three IS bad. This guy seems to have avoided all three:

  • not poor, because: year old Range Rover
  • not weak, because balls enough to park a Range Rover outside the shithole complex that makes Mesa Ridge Apartments look like luxury condos.
  • Maybe that is stupid.  So is overnight parking in general.  But look in the front seat! A GIANT PUKE BUCKET! That is malice aforethought Eagle Scout like preparation.  You can’t always find a Hill Auditorium trash can when you need one.
Range Rover crash

Perhaps Liz was in town for #88 and dipped into the Balvenie a bit deeper than intended

My Frat Bro Russell

Russell Something-or-other drove a Fiero like this. Drive-By Shootings: The Lesser Lights.

Pontiac Fiero

We would call it “the Chevette of 1980s mid-engined ‘sports’ cars,” except that it involves Russell the stoner.  We nearly got in a fight with him about his previous car, a Pontiac T1000.  We called it a Chevette by any other name: he was adamant that not only was it NOT merely a re-badged POS, it had “completely different wiring” and components.

Uh, no, sorry.  Go hit that bong again, dude.

So, we’ll just say “Oh look” and be glad this one doesn’t have a JC Whitney vinyl bra like Russell’s.

Fashion Police

Eat the Rich: We Called It

About a month ago, we noticed some newspaper attention for a car show we go to every month. Concurrently, the “usual suspects” (whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean) changed the name of this thing from “Cars and Coffee” to “Scottsdale Motorsports Gathering.”  The new name seemed a bit pretentious; the media coverage portended more everything in the following…