HEY. LISTEN. As an "automotive journalist," I can heel-toe a Toyota Yaris on my free Pilotis as well as any bench-racing chump who fills my publication with amateur-hour statistics. I can achieve 10/10ths in a Hyundai Santa Fe in the same time it takes for me to rush over to the shrimp buffet at the Four Seasons in Scottsdale, which is fast as hell, because nothing tastes better than shrimp in the desert. Ever scare a midlevel product planner up
The Snake in a Ford Explorer? Screw you race car drivers. I once got a Skip Barber "certificate of completion" at Laguna Seca for doing a lead-follow in an MX-5 Miata, even though I could've dusted all those asstwats down the Corkscrew, because I once complemented the shift feel in a manual Mazda 6. Cockknockers.