Monday, midway through my voyage to Orient Point, the rover decided to play dead. Then it figured "to hell with games; let's make it a reality." In Flanders. On a fuel dock. Luckily, my knight in sweat-stained Judas Priest-praising armor arrived in under an hour, and, after much prodding, gave me the breakdown on wheels and the ways of a man who mans eight of them.
If you have major hots for your mechanic, buy a Bentley.
If you think he's kind of cute, a Lamborghini, Maserati, or a good ole Range Rover should suffice.
If your mechanic has Bud Light breath and nostril hair, buy a Honda.
Don't double park on Deerfield, no matter who's throwing the party. If you do, and you or the valet catches the impounder, it'll cost $175 to convince him to give it back.
You can listen to an 160 decibel stereo and not lose your hearing.
You can ride a motorcycle at 275 mph and not die.
If you are planning on doing this, do not buy yellow motorcycle gear, just in case.
The Nintendo 360 has the best racing graphics.
In terms of clubbin', Porky's is where it's at.