Todd has his helicopter porn, I have my cars.
1. 70 Chevelle SS
Mine would be in black, but you get the idea. That right there, ladies and gentlemen, is the ultimate in automobiles. It’s the car I’ve been dreaming about since I first got my license back in the dark ages, and the car I will some day own. Mark my words. That’s not just any muscle car, kids. That is a piece of art. You know how some guys feel when they see a picture of some big breasted chick with her legs in the air and a “take me” look on her face? You know how some women feel when they see a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes on sale at Neiman Marcus? That’s how I feel when I see this car. No, I don’t want to fuck it, but I just might rub up against it in a sexual fashion, given the chance. Oh hell, if it had a dick, I’d fuck it.
2. 74 Dodge Challenger
Make no mistake, I know very little about what lives inside the guts of a car. I couldn’t tell a hemi from a semi. But give me a car that looks like this and I’ll be making moves on it within seconds. I don’t need to know what it’s made of. I just need to know that it goes fast, roars loud and looks like the equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret model in boy shorts and a black lace bra.
This car is almost menancing. Maybe that’s what I like so much about it. Much like my fascination with Boba Fett or my love of any of Gary Oldman’s bad ass charactes, my taste in cars I wish I had runs toward the dark side. If cars were movie villains, this Challenger would be Drexl Spivey.
3. Ford Galaxie 500
I learned how to drive in one of these babies. Same colors, too – fire engine red with a snow white top. The car was old by then, in car years – this was a 68 in 1979 – but still looked factory clean. It drove like a dream – well, when you are 17 and gripping the wheel for the first time even a station wagon would ride like a dream – and I felt immediately comfortable behind the wheel. I was learning to drive in style. The 500 was a beauty of a car; slick, sexy, the kind of car supermodels with white framed sunglasses and deep tans drove.
4. 1970 Ford Mustang
Unlike the previous cars I’ve talked about – where I envisioned myself driving them – this one is pure testosterone. It’s a guy’s car. If cars were dicks, the Mach I one would belong to John Holmes. It’s the kind of car I might not drive, but would keep in my driveway and spend every Saturday afternoon lovingly soaping it up and hosing it down while entertaining the neighborhood with Mach I worthy tunes.
5. 1969 GTO – The Judge
Normally, I don’t do orange, but somehow the color looks hot on this car. Hell, this is the kind of car you could roll out in some hideous shade of puke green and it would still look good.
If cars were guys, the ‘69 GTO would be the guy your mother warned you about; the one you are not supposed to look at, let alone talk to, because one stare from him would turn your chastity belt to dust. Yea, if this car were a guy, I would be standing in front of it, leaning down low, wearing the lowest cut shirt I own whispering something about checking the dipstick.
Except it’s gotta be the hardtop, not the convertible. Convertibles are nice on some cars, but when you are riding a bad boy like this, soft just won’t do.
So there’s the five car’s I’d bang.
Speaking of car bangers: