or rather do the crow’s nest in, from the back seat, as Pod eases through a sea of drunk Greek assholes and wenches. Then later, get out among your people and cop some feels.
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Pontiac
My Frat Bro Russell
Russell Something-or-other drove a Fiero like this. Drive-By Shootings: The Lesser Lights.
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.
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1967 Pontiac Firebird
How Did We Go So Wrong?
Ron Rice says leave my car alone.
Letting you back it out of the frat house driveway that one snowy day in no way entitles you to even look at it again. – Ron Rice
Name That Car
Come on, Craigslist
Don’t Let Me Down
VegaS. wHAT THE FUCK? Bring this to Phoenix and sell it to me.
Read more "Come on, Craigslist"What to Drive
from Kalamazoo to New Mexico, trying to find naked chicks at the hot springs outside of Taos. Also, vampires and Dirty Dave.
Read more "What to Drive"What NOT to drive
to your prom, because: Your cousin said, “oh fuck no” when you asked to borrow his. You didn’t go anyway. You only had about $3 for gas until payday as it was.
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