It’s not a grail car, because I only rode in it once, and the highlight was not ludicrous speed, driving on the beach, or cruising campus for topless Western babes jumping in to sex me up. No, the highlight was being ordered to hop out and press the pedestrian button so the light would change faster. Yes, the true purpose of this
pussy magnet ego assuager was once again fulfilled in fine form.
Dear everybody with $1.5 million to drop on a car:
White with a black grille? Silver and black? Silver and gray? What’s wrong with you people? Yeah, the colors are tasteful. Here’s a newsflash: A Veyron is the opposite of tasteful. Lipstick on a pig doesn’t make it not a pig. By the same token, Chevy Impala civil service colors on a hypercar in no way disguises the fact that one of these costs the same as all of the houses on my street put together.
We know you are an overindulged prick with too goddamned much money. Embrace it. Flaunt it. You bought the ticket – take the ride.