I think we all know who I’m talking about here. We’ve all seen the wannabe baller in a 1980’s Cadillac held together by duct tape and chewing gum, rolling along on 20-inch high-polish wheels that probably cost more than the car. We’ve all heard (and felt, deep down in our diaphragm) the audiophile who spent more than four months of his salary on an array of 15- and 12-inch subs, in attempt impress us by stubbornly refusing to bleed out of his facial orifices despite having ruptured his ear drums and rattled his brain as loose as the screws that once held his car together. We’ve all hastily rolled up our windows and turned the vent to “re-circ” as we dove into the plumes of black smoke that were being emitted generously by that one dude who refuses to accept the fact that his car is burning oil and gasoline at a 1:1 rato. Yet through the billowing clouds of carbon monoxide, and various carcinogenic pollutants, we can dimly make out the flickering screen of a sizable lcd tv.
So here’s to you, Mr. misguided car enthusiast. You may occasionally annoy us by actively shedding pieces of your car on the freeway, or by causing our ears to buzz for hours after getting stuck next to you at that fateful stoplight, but you do do one thing. Your make our drive infinitely more interesting than the radio ever could.
If I were to get rid of my hatchback though, this how my rig would look. For serious …
