The other day, someone suggested the idea that I dedicate a blog post to airlines, and airports in general. Being a grizzled veteran of air travel, I figured this should be easy enough.
Its hard to count how many times I've rode a plane, all I can tell you is that I've been riding planes ever since I was about a few months old. Why, why was I sentenced to this damnation I sometimes ask myself... You see, I hate riding airplanes, I hate airports, the words pilot, airline, fasten your seat belt, please return your seat to its upright position cause my stomach to churn. When I watch people on airplanes in a movie or something, I feel the need to run to the bathroom and grip the toilet seat an spew copious amounts of vomit until there is nothing left inside my body, yet I will continue to throw up somehow. As you can tell, I am not especially fond of airplanes nor anything they have to offer. Why then, do I find myself eternally bound to these hellish deathtraps?
Its 5 in the morning, and I've been asleep for about three hours. Every light, appliance, and sound- emitting machine in the house is on, at bull blast, due to the nature of the Egyptian race, we assume if something isn't done at the last second, surely something will go terribly wrong. After fighting for a chance to get into the bathroom (this is really my last chance, I wish they'd add bathrooms to airplanes................) I find myself carrying senseless amounts of baggage out to the car. By now, the air is a frigid, blood freezing cold, and trying to lug around awkwardly shaped bags stuffed with God knows what until the seams are screaming bloody murder and the zipper is a hair's breadth away from breaking free from the bag and turning into a deadly projectile sure to rip through anything it comes into contact with just adds to my irritation.
By now its around six thirty or later, lets assume the scheduled flight time is nine AM. Good, we have time, after all of the bags and people are finally crammed into the van, we start heading toward the airport, everyone still keeping his cool, hopefully people are starting to fall asleep again and everything seems peaceful. Until someone, most likely of the female sex screams wildly, causing the dark homes down the street to flicker on their lights. "I forgot my purse/makeup/some sort of superfluous accessory back at the house!!!!!!!!!!!" Immediately the car is filled with angry cries, accusations of mental illness towards everyone in the car, and general insults and words of distaste towards this entire trip, whatever it may be. After this nightmare is finished, we resume heading towards the airport, buy now the sun is bright, cars are filling the road, civilization is starting to appear, making the whole situation seem as less of a nightmare. No one wants to sleep anymore, instead everyone is jittery and looking forward to our destination, seeming without a care on their minds.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
"You Can Go A Long Way With A Smile, You Can Go A Lot Farther With A Smile And A Gun."
Quite possibly the biggest bad ass in all of history. Alphonse "Scarface" Capone, one of the most influential people in all of American history. I haven't done this man justice, only recently did I remember that I haven't made a single entry on this notorious gangster.
Al was born to modest parents in Brooklyn and was one of nine children. As you might expect, he was sort of left to himself in the streets and did whatever odd jobs he could land himself in in order to make a living. He started getting noticed by various gang members and leaders, who were enticed with his ruthlessness and skill in entrepreneurship and the like. He eventually landed himself a job as a bouncer to a bar in Coney Island. During one nasty attempt at his life, he was slashed in the face with a knife, which earned him various scars and the befitting name of "Scarface." All of this was adding to his hardcoreness and eventually he picked up some serious mafia ties and left New York, where the scene was starting to get really hot, cops everywhere were on his tail, etc.
Capone moved his empire to the small city of Cicero, Illinois. From there he started acquiring much more power and it was there that he took control of the heavy crime syndicate, the Chicago Outfit. This is where Capone started becoming the cultural icon that he is today. Zooming through the streets in his bullet- proof Cadillac, donned in long coats and fedoras, puffing on a fat cigar, he rose to the top of the underworld, where many attacks would be made on his life. One mafioso in particular, the feared Bugs Moran would prove to be a particular adversary for Capone. Back and forth, they would have gruesome gang wars in the streets of Chicago, where hundreds of gang members would be killed in cold blood.
But nothing truly compares to the events that would come to be known as the St. Valentines Day Massacre. Where dozens of Moran's men were brutally murdered used Tommy guns and shotguns. This sparked lots of controversy with Al Capone, some people thought he crossed the line.
Al was born to modest parents in Brooklyn and was one of nine children. As you might expect, he was sort of left to himself in the streets and did whatever odd jobs he could land himself in in order to make a living. He started getting noticed by various gang members and leaders, who were enticed with his ruthlessness and skill in entrepreneurship and the like. He eventually landed himself a job as a bouncer to a bar in Coney Island. During one nasty attempt at his life, he was slashed in the face with a knife, which earned him various scars and the befitting name of "Scarface." All of this was adding to his hardcoreness and eventually he picked up some serious mafia ties and left New York, where the scene was starting to get really hot, cops everywhere were on his tail, etc.
Capone moved his empire to the small city of Cicero, Illinois. From there he started acquiring much more power and it was there that he took control of the heavy crime syndicate, the Chicago Outfit. This is where Capone started becoming the cultural icon that he is today. Zooming through the streets in his bullet- proof Cadillac, donned in long coats and fedoras, puffing on a fat cigar, he rose to the top of the underworld, where many attacks would be made on his life. One mafioso in particular, the feared Bugs Moran would prove to be a particular adversary for Capone. Back and forth, they would have gruesome gang wars in the streets of Chicago, where hundreds of gang members would be killed in cold blood.
But nothing truly compares to the events that would come to be known as the St. Valentines Day Massacre. Where dozens of Moran's men were brutally murdered used Tommy guns and shotguns. This sparked lots of controversy with Al Capone, some people thought he crossed the line.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Why Do They Call it Beef?
I said I would start blogging about cars, something that wasn't a complete lie, but its proving to be more challenging than I thought. So I'm putting that on hold for a while...
Until then, I thought it would be appropriate to address another situation currently in progress, this time in the Hip- Hop world. If you at all follow this nonsense, then you would be well aware of the heightened tensions between two Hip- Hop moguls, 50 Cent and Rick Ross.
The "beef" between this two is quite entertaining to follow, mainly because both sides don't even know why they're mad at each other, and barely anything new is put out on the table. Its mostly belligerent talk consisting of, "Your [insert any relative] is so [insert insult] that I should [insert any sort of sexual, violent, or combination of the two term] them up." This has been going on since sometime in later January, when Rick Ross released a song in which he attacked 50 Cent's ex wife, and mother of his only son. Personally, I find conflict between rappers to be all in good fun, and results in really good music. But when someone's family is attacked, I just feel that's a little over the top. There are some lines that you just don't cross, especially when you aren't in a position of power. 50 is quite notorious for his "beefing" abilities. He doesn't lose. Some may argue that he doesn't have the best rapping skill, but there is no discrepancy that he is the reigning king of beef.
Fifty responded with a nice assortment of videos, explaining to Rick Ross how he was going to be busy at an international concert, but when he returns, he will fu-- Ross's life up. Now, if anyone with biceps the size of fricking footballs told me they were going to fu-- my life up, I'd at least make an attempt to reconcile. But Ross merely called 50 a monkey and claimed that he wasn't impressed. Which led to 50 dropping what would be the first diss track in this entire scenario, titled Officer Ricky.
Turns out, that Rick Ross, the alleged druglord of Miami, was actually a correctional officer back in the day. Now I personally don't care, I certainly don't think that makes someone less of a man or anything like that, but in the common day Hip- Hop world, that's pretty much taboo. When pictures of him dressed in police officer clothing leaked onto the Internet, people had a field day. Instantly, Ross lost lots of credibility, people left and right were beginning to talk about how "fake" he is/was, it looked bad. It got even worse when 50 Cent flew in Rick Ross's ex wife, one with whom he is currently in some sort of lawsuit (something about child support or w/e, we all know how trustworthy and ethical rappers are anyways). So 50 flew her in from Miami, hosted an interview in which she spilled the beans on his past life as a cop, his eating habits, the fact that most of his jewelry is fake (if something like that would be proved true, you'd never hear about Ross ever again, that's the worst possible scandal one could be accused of). Afterward, 50 had the audacity to take her out shopping with him, flaunting his obscene wealth as he showered her in designer coats, shoes, etc.
The rest is history... as mentioned above, both take turns stabbing each others': sexuality, wealth, credibility on the streets, whatever. Lately it hasn't been as interesting.
Until then, I thought it would be appropriate to address another situation currently in progress, this time in the Hip- Hop world. If you at all follow this nonsense, then you would be well aware of the heightened tensions between two Hip- Hop moguls, 50 Cent and Rick Ross.
The "beef" between this two is quite entertaining to follow, mainly because both sides don't even know why they're mad at each other, and barely anything new is put out on the table. Its mostly belligerent talk consisting of, "Your [insert any relative] is so [insert insult] that I should [insert any sort of sexual, violent, or combination of the two term] them up." This has been going on since sometime in later January, when Rick Ross released a song in which he attacked 50 Cent's ex wife, and mother of his only son. Personally, I find conflict between rappers to be all in good fun, and results in really good music. But when someone's family is attacked, I just feel that's a little over the top. There are some lines that you just don't cross, especially when you aren't in a position of power. 50 is quite notorious for his "beefing" abilities. He doesn't lose. Some may argue that he doesn't have the best rapping skill, but there is no discrepancy that he is the reigning king of beef.
Fifty responded with a nice assortment of videos, explaining to Rick Ross how he was going to be busy at an international concert, but when he returns, he will fu-- Ross's life up. Now, if anyone with biceps the size of fricking footballs told me they were going to fu-- my life up, I'd at least make an attempt to reconcile. But Ross merely called 50 a monkey and claimed that he wasn't impressed. Which led to 50 dropping what would be the first diss track in this entire scenario, titled Officer Ricky.
Turns out, that Rick Ross, the alleged druglord of Miami, was actually a correctional officer back in the day. Now I personally don't care, I certainly don't think that makes someone less of a man or anything like that, but in the common day Hip- Hop world, that's pretty much taboo. When pictures of him dressed in police officer clothing leaked onto the Internet, people had a field day. Instantly, Ross lost lots of credibility, people left and right were beginning to talk about how "fake" he is/was, it looked bad. It got even worse when 50 Cent flew in Rick Ross's ex wife, one with whom he is currently in some sort of lawsuit (something about child support or w/e, we all know how trustworthy and ethical rappers are anyways). So 50 flew her in from Miami, hosted an interview in which she spilled the beans on his past life as a cop, his eating habits, the fact that most of his jewelry is fake (if something like that would be proved true, you'd never hear about Ross ever again, that's the worst possible scandal one could be accused of). Afterward, 50 had the audacity to take her out shopping with him, flaunting his obscene wealth as he showered her in designer coats, shoes, etc.
The rest is history... as mentioned above, both take turns stabbing each others': sexuality, wealth, credibility on the streets, whatever. Lately it hasn't been as interesting.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
If Blogs Could Gather Dust....
Alas, its a new term, which means I am back to blogging. Its kinda hard to pick this back up... I can't seem to think of any ideas to write about, I've been staring at these two lines or so for the past twenty minutes...
Well, today is a new day, hopefully I'll find something to write about, instead of writing about how I can't think of anything to write about, which is what I'm doing again. Since the last time I blogged, a lot has happened in the world that I could talk about, I'll try and start with something easy and talk about the release of a kickass new video game: Halo Wars.
Halo Wars is a Real-Time-Strategy (RTS) game developed by Ensemble Studios, the same people who made the classic RTS series, Age of Empires. I am a HUGE fan of RTS games, the were the first that I ever played, way back when, all of the old school Command and Conquer games like Red Alert 2, Yuri's revenge, etc. Ever since then, strategy games have been really hit and miss. Sometimes it feels like I'm just playing an older game with new skins e.g., all the Star Wars RTS's that are out there. But every now and then, there is an RTS that totally blows everything else out of the water, and they remain on top until the next installment, easily bucking away anything in its path. But so far, all of these games were all for PC.
When I initially heard that Halo Wars was going to be exclusive to the XBOX 360, I was completely dumbfounded. The sheer suggestion of making an RTS for a console was completely unheard of. How can you even do something like that? How can you manage massive armies using a controller? How the HELL can you micromanage different units within said army using only a couple of buttons and an analog stick? For a long time, I boycotted this game, hoping that it never cross my path. But, after watching all of the trailers that were made for this game, and watching one of my friends play the demo, I started realizing that it wasn't that bad. The controls are better than terrible, they still aren't what I'd like them to be (keyboard and mouse), but they are very well playable. The graphics though, were nothing short of perfect, as was the audio. What else could you expect from a Halo title?
The game itself looks like every other Halo game, the main screen, the pregame screens, everything, which made it seem a lot easier to play, because at first I was a little tentative to play a Halo game not produced by Bungie. Whenever any awesome, classic game is handed over from the original makers to someone else, it generally doesn't connect (Spyro the Dragon anyone? I have never seen a more gruesome slaughtering of such a magnificent game than what I saw with the Spyro series). But Halo Wars felt almost as good as the original. The reason I say almost is because it lacks one thing I think: that intangible, essence that the Halo series has, the feeling that you're playing arguably the single greatest video game OF ALL TIME, that feeling wasn't so profound when playing Halo Wars. But its still a great RTS game nonetheless, keeping in mind that its on a console.
Watch this video and make your decision. Pay attention though, to how similar it looks to the other Halos, and how smoothly it runs and plays, even though its on a console. This isn't my video though, which can explain why the guy who's playing it sucks.
Well, today is a new day, hopefully I'll find something to write about, instead of writing about how I can't think of anything to write about, which is what I'm doing again. Since the last time I blogged, a lot has happened in the world that I could talk about, I'll try and start with something easy and talk about the release of a kickass new video game: Halo Wars.
Halo Wars is a Real-Time-Strategy (RTS) game developed by Ensemble Studios, the same people who made the classic RTS series, Age of Empires. I am a HUGE fan of RTS games, the were the first that I ever played, way back when, all of the old school Command and Conquer games like Red Alert 2, Yuri's revenge, etc. Ever since then, strategy games have been really hit and miss. Sometimes it feels like I'm just playing an older game with new skins e.g., all the Star Wars RTS's that are out there. But every now and then, there is an RTS that totally blows everything else out of the water, and they remain on top until the next installment, easily bucking away anything in its path. But so far, all of these games were all for PC.
When I initially heard that Halo Wars was going to be exclusive to the XBOX 360, I was completely dumbfounded. The sheer suggestion of making an RTS for a console was completely unheard of. How can you even do something like that? How can you manage massive armies using a controller? How the HELL can you micromanage different units within said army using only a couple of buttons and an analog stick? For a long time, I boycotted this game, hoping that it never cross my path. But, after watching all of the trailers that were made for this game, and watching one of my friends play the demo, I started realizing that it wasn't that bad. The controls are better than terrible, they still aren't what I'd like them to be (keyboard and mouse), but they are very well playable. The graphics though, were nothing short of perfect, as was the audio. What else could you expect from a Halo title?
The game itself looks like every other Halo game, the main screen, the pregame screens, everything, which made it seem a lot easier to play, because at first I was a little tentative to play a Halo game not produced by Bungie. Whenever any awesome, classic game is handed over from the original makers to someone else, it generally doesn't connect (Spyro the Dragon anyone? I have never seen a more gruesome slaughtering of such a magnificent game than what I saw with the Spyro series). But Halo Wars felt almost as good as the original. The reason I say almost is because it lacks one thing I think: that intangible, essence that the Halo series has, the feeling that you're playing arguably the single greatest video game OF ALL TIME, that feeling wasn't so profound when playing Halo Wars. But its still a great RTS game nonetheless, keeping in mind that its on a console.
Watch this video and make your decision. Pay attention though, to how similar it looks to the other Halos, and how smoothly it runs and plays, even though its on a console. This isn't my video though, which can explain why the guy who's playing it sucks.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Making Bets With Unscrupulous Dogs Named Ethan Hughes
Don't do it. Its not worth your time. They use their slimy, greasy wit to try evade pay up time, only because they always lose their bets because they never think about them for more than four seconds.
If you're wondering why I got off the subject of cars and got off on this odd tangent, let me explain. The other day I made a bet with Ethan that someone else in our class would not show up that particular day. I knew for a fact the person in question wasn't going to show up, because I had spoken with him earlier that day and figured out that he had fallen ill, and advised him to not come to class. We were betting on the sum of $2.00. Generally, we give the absentee until the end of class to show up, as expected he didn't. Grinning from ear to ear, I meandered over to the Ethan, anxious to reap my rewards. I was confronted with a collection of the most nonsensical, Bulls*** excuses on why I couldn't get my money on that day. Being the generous, understanding man that I am, I allowed him to repay me on the following day, provided he add one quarter to the sum, to make up for the inconvenience of not being able to purchase a pop that day.
The next day, I approached Ethan and asked, again, for my money. He told me it ws no problem and he had the money on him, and the second we got settled in our seats, I would be paid. This unscrupulous bastard then zips open his heap of trash sewn together into something similar in shape to a backpack, and brandishes an oblong shaped object, caked from end to end in grime and filth. He hands said object to me, squinting to try and make out whatever the hell it actually was, I was able to make out the familar shape of a soft drink bottle. This bottle was housing what appeared to me as a pile of human feces. Upon closer inspection, I realized that I was actually looking at a collection of pennies. Not just any pennies, these pennies looked as if they had been retrieved from the foulest, most inhospitable environment ever to be found on the face of the planet, Ethan Hughes' crapfest wagon, also known as his car.
If you aren't familar with this infamous plague that ruins the very asphalt it drives over, its no big deal. Just walk outside one day, and follow the undeniable stench of old socks mixed with McDonald's fries, and cheap cologne. You can't miss it. Anyhow, I am now the owner of this nightmare, and I know not how to dispose of it. I am legitimately scared of throwing it away, I fear what it can do to should it be left alone. It might mutate into a foul monster that runs rampant in the streets, choking little babies and elderly women to death just for the laughs. You see, I struck a deal with the devil himself, and I am now in a situation reminiscent of Fordo and his plight with the ring. I must find a way to dispose of this sticky, disgusting bottle of Sunkist, within it a collection of tokens from the devil's chariot itself, and when I do, I will seek my revenge on those who have brought this burden upon me.
If you're wondering why I got off the subject of cars and got off on this odd tangent, let me explain. The other day I made a bet with Ethan that someone else in our class would not show up that particular day. I knew for a fact the person in question wasn't going to show up, because I had spoken with him earlier that day and figured out that he had fallen ill, and advised him to not come to class. We were betting on the sum of $2.00. Generally, we give the absentee until the end of class to show up, as expected he didn't. Grinning from ear to ear, I meandered over to the Ethan, anxious to reap my rewards. I was confronted with a collection of the most nonsensical, Bulls*** excuses on why I couldn't get my money on that day. Being the generous, understanding man that I am, I allowed him to repay me on the following day, provided he add one quarter to the sum, to make up for the inconvenience of not being able to purchase a pop that day.
The next day, I approached Ethan and asked, again, for my money. He told me it ws no problem and he had the money on him, and the second we got settled in our seats, I would be paid. This unscrupulous bastard then zips open his heap of trash sewn together into something similar in shape to a backpack, and brandishes an oblong shaped object, caked from end to end in grime and filth. He hands said object to me, squinting to try and make out whatever the hell it actually was, I was able to make out the familar shape of a soft drink bottle. This bottle was housing what appeared to me as a pile of human feces. Upon closer inspection, I realized that I was actually looking at a collection of pennies. Not just any pennies, these pennies looked as if they had been retrieved from the foulest, most inhospitable environment ever to be found on the face of the planet, Ethan Hughes' crapfest wagon, also known as his car.
If you aren't familar with this infamous plague that ruins the very asphalt it drives over, its no big deal. Just walk outside one day, and follow the undeniable stench of old socks mixed with McDonald's fries, and cheap cologne. You can't miss it. Anyhow, I am now the owner of this nightmare, and I know not how to dispose of it. I am legitimately scared of throwing it away, I fear what it can do to should it be left alone. It might mutate into a foul monster that runs rampant in the streets, choking little babies and elderly women to death just for the laughs. You see, I struck a deal with the devil himself, and I am now in a situation reminiscent of Fordo and his plight with the ring. I must find a way to dispose of this sticky, disgusting bottle of Sunkist, within it a collection of tokens from the devil's chariot itself, and when I do, I will seek my revenge on those who have brought this burden upon me.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Why I Made The Sandbox
Why indeed, why indeed...
Hell I know why, my teacher made me. This was an assignment. To blog three times a week, every week, producing three posts totaling 1200 words in each week. Sounded like A LOT. It was a lot, it is a lot. But its grown on me. Its gotten to be a little more than a chore now, sometimes I find myself anxious to write down the things that come to mind on my blog. I got on to some topics that I like and really like to discuss and debate, so I kind of opened the door for myself and made it easier to blog. While other students in my class were being mercilessly pounded by the periodic, unannounced blog checks, I found myself passing through these easily, I think at some point I was actually a little ahead of the game, a few posts ahead of the weekly quota.
But I still don't know what I actually think about blogging itself. At times it seems really, really superfluous and unneeded, just people retelling things that I can find anywhere, and often times their opinions just flat out don't matter. Some blogs are written by educated people it appears, who have a strong passion for their subject, and can drop multi- page posts every hour easily; they've turned blogging into an art. Other blogs, typically the ones written by stay at home parents, and other people with way too much time on their hands, consist of pictures taken while on vacation, and lengthy explanations of why
But the main issue I see is simple. Blogging, the actual writing and maintenance of a blog is quite easy, as in, you don't need to take a class on how to do it. You just write, write about whatever your topic is. All it takes to hold an audience to a blog is a good subject matter, and good writing skills. Neither of those need to be taught in a blogging class, they each have their own place where they are taught. I don't know if I'm relaying what I'm trying to say well enough here... Here's the situation: BLOGGING itself is almost too self- explanatory. You pick something to write about, sign up to a site like this, and you write about it. There isn't any magic. If it sounds easy, that's because it really is. The main problem that I noticed with my blog, and other peoples' blogs, was the lack of issues to discuss. The problem wasn't found with blogging itself.
But blogging is fun, sometimes you have a personal experience that you want to just get out there, for the public to see, and blogging is a great way to do it. Just don't expect anything from me for a LOOOOOOOOOONG time. I was told if I write about why I write, I don't have to write anymore. ;)
Hell I know why, my teacher made me. This was an assignment. To blog three times a week, every week, producing three posts totaling 1200 words in each week. Sounded like A LOT. It was a lot, it is a lot. But its grown on me. Its gotten to be a little more than a chore now, sometimes I find myself anxious to write down the things that come to mind on my blog. I got on to some topics that I like and really like to discuss and debate, so I kind of opened the door for myself and made it easier to blog. While other students in my class were being mercilessly pounded by the periodic, unannounced blog checks, I found myself passing through these easily, I think at some point I was actually a little ahead of the game, a few posts ahead of the weekly quota.
But I still don't know what I actually think about blogging itself. At times it seems really, really superfluous and unneeded, just people retelling things that I can find anywhere, and often times their opinions just flat out don't matter. Some blogs are written by educated people it appears, who have a strong passion for their subject, and can drop multi- page posts every hour easily; they've turned blogging into an art. Other blogs, typically the ones written by stay at home parents, and other people with way too much time on their hands, consist of pictures taken while on vacation, and lengthy explanations of why
But the main issue I see is simple. Blogging, the actual writing and maintenance of a blog is quite easy, as in, you don't need to take a class on how to do it. You just write, write about whatever your topic is. All it takes to hold an audience to a blog is a good subject matter, and good writing skills. Neither of those need to be taught in a blogging class, they each have their own place where they are taught. I don't know if I'm relaying what I'm trying to say well enough here... Here's the situation: BLOGGING itself is almost too self- explanatory. You pick something to write about, sign up to a site like this, and you write about it. There isn't any magic. If it sounds easy, that's because it really is. The main problem that I noticed with my blog, and other peoples' blogs, was the lack of issues to discuss. The problem wasn't found with blogging itself.
But blogging is fun, sometimes you have a personal experience that you want to just get out there, for the public to see, and blogging is a great way to do it. Just don't expect anything from me for a LOOOOOOOOOONG time. I was told if I write about why I write, I don't have to write anymore. ;)
Monday, February 9, 2009
Luxury Cars
There are very few things in this world that can appease a man more than riding in a very nice car. By their very nature, they ride really easy, making you feel like you aren't moving, completely separating the passengers from the road. Driving through the Amazon or the Grand Canyon would feel like you were driving down a smooth highway. But none of that compromises the raw power that is found in these cars. The Mercedes- Benz S600, with a V12 engine, would run straight through a tank and come out on the other side with only a small scratch that a little wax could take care of.
Luxury cars are a very special type of car, there are lots of them, but the ones worthy of mentioning are only a few. A very, very, small few. There are lots of "luxurious" cars out there that are basically moving billboards screaming, "I HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SPEND IT ON!!!." Those kinds of cars are a dime a dozen. BMW Z4s, Mercedes- Benz CLKs, Cadillac CTSs, just to name a couple off the top of my head. Cars that you see ignorant, snooty high school girls driving, COMPLETELY oblivious to whatever the hell's underneath the hood. Don't expect any of that here.
But there is one thing that I need to clear up. The stereotype that ALL people who drive luxury cars of of the same mold of people mentioned above is completely false. There are people out there who value their cars and not just because other people think they look nice. People who understand the sheer power and technology that their car possess, the kind of damage they can do with it, the kind of havoc they can wreak if they want to, the people who make the car look a lot better, not the other way around.
All this talk about luxury cars, and I haven't mentioned a single one I don't think, nor have I even shown a single picture. All not without my reasons, I want to build up some hype for these cars before I show them to whoever is reading this blog... if there is anyone reading this blog... By the way, feel free to post a comment whenever you like about anything you see... anyone... Anyway, eventually I will make some sort of top ten list or something with all of the awesome cars out there. I don't want to sound narcissist or anything, with more than half of my recent posts all being Top Ten lists of my favorite _______s, but most of the time my lists aren't exclusive to my taste, the majority of the people who are interested in what I talk about would agree with what I have to say... Anyway, I got off on my second tangent there, but yeah, eventually I'll get back on to this discussion of cars.
Luxury cars are a very special type of car, there are lots of them, but the ones worthy of mentioning are only a few. A very, very, small few. There are lots of "luxurious" cars out there that are basically moving billboards screaming, "I HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SPEND IT ON!!!." Those kinds of cars are a dime a dozen. BMW Z4s, Mercedes- Benz CLKs, Cadillac CTSs, just to name a couple off the top of my head. Cars that you see ignorant, snooty high school girls driving, COMPLETELY oblivious to whatever the hell's underneath the hood. Don't expect any of that here.
But there is one thing that I need to clear up. The stereotype that ALL people who drive luxury cars of of the same mold of people mentioned above is completely false. There are people out there who value their cars and not just because other people think they look nice. People who understand the sheer power and technology that their car possess, the kind of damage they can do with it, the kind of havoc they can wreak if they want to, the people who make the car look a lot better, not the other way around.
All this talk about luxury cars, and I haven't mentioned a single one I don't think, nor have I even shown a single picture. All not without my reasons, I want to build up some hype for these cars before I show them to whoever is reading this blog... if there is anyone reading this blog... By the way, feel free to post a comment whenever you like about anything you see... anyone... Anyway, eventually I will make some sort of top ten list or something with all of the awesome cars out there. I don't want to sound narcissist or anything, with more than half of my recent posts all being Top Ten lists of my favorite _______s, but most of the time my lists aren't exclusive to my taste, the majority of the people who are interested in what I talk about would agree with what I have to say... Anyway, I got off on my second tangent there, but yeah, eventually I'll get back on to this discussion of cars.
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