Category: Automotive

Babe Magnet: The Batmoboil

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Whoa.  Batman logo with tinyperkynipples, on a Chrysler Minivan no less.  Let’s all scream, “PARTYMOBILE!”  Bijonce and her sister Charlondra be gonna jump de bones of the driver of this dragon wagon, assuming they can see over the hood to appreciate the majesty of it all.

Of course the neighborhood girls are way underage, and the only way they’d see the attraction is if Bozoman personally lifted them higher than his blood alcohol level x the height of the hood ornament. Fortunately Bozoman can’t, and has to rely on subterfuge to get his prey into the Mommyvan.  Fortunately for Bijonce and her sister, they’re both armed with tasers and the bone-breaking physical paybacks of the self-defense kind.

This conundrum leaves Bozoman with nothing but his two Bozofriends and a couple of quarts of beer.  Since no significant otter, either outside or inside of Bozoman’s Mommyvan, can view the Batmoboil Logo, the only way the lame-o paintjob boosts this embarrassing piece of dorkness to the level of  Babe Magnet is in the mindvapors of Bozoman himself.

[This image from Woosk, related by bastardized ancestry to this post, has been added to the Great Babe Magnet Archive.]

Babe Magnet: The VW Basbo Flash

I honestly don’t know the story behind this amazing feat of engineering, but here it is.

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Very cool.  The styling just screams high performance babe magnet.

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Serious aerodynamics here.  This dragon wagon chills at close to the speed of light and it beats your ride even while parked.  Okay, it’s got an unfortunate license plate, but hey, the hotness overrides the WOBL1.  Let’s have a look at the interior.

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IT’S A COCKPIT! Way cool.  But, um, where is the  silicone/saline siren supposed to sit?  Seems to be a slight design oversight, but admit it, you’re still cruising at 3,000 feet right?

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Not quite.  Sometimes scale matters.  You are travelling at whelp speed in a truncated tadpole…

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..only worse.  It’s a Mars Bar with wheels and an embarrassing license plate.

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Screw it; it’s basic transportation.  Let’s mess with the traffic and laugh about it while feeling Green and saving the planet.  (Sorry, there’s no room for you. Get your own tadpole, mooch.)

So is it a Babe Magnet or not?  Phhht.  For the money, I’d buy a Harley and a rainsuit instead, and I’d still get better mileage than Mr. Tadpole.

BUT if  I were forced into driving a dorkmobile, and only upon penalty of death, I’d choose this, if only for the nostalgia:

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Sam Lowry drove a Messerschmitt in BRAZIL.

[Top images via email from Dan S.  Don’t miss this excellent collection of Babe Magnets.]

Russki Babeski Magnetski

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Nothing screams “BABE MAGNET” like a genuine Russian NyetMobile painted in puke greeen, with pink and yellow highlights.

Nevermind the exhaust pipes/mufflers/after-burners that keep the rear quarter panel aluminum trim from overheating, and ignore the rear mudflops  an inch above the pavement. (Yes, I called them mudflops.)

What makes this a genuine Babe Magnet is not the tumor growing from the rear boot, nor the tumor monitor mounted just inches away.

It’s not the surfboard rack either, although Comrade Pav’s ride certainly gains some serious Babe Magnetage points there.  Look closer for the REAL love bait… closer… closer…

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Woop! It’s either a lion with it’s paws spewing stinky vapors, or it’s THIS GUY.  You be the judge.

After analyzing the image in detail, we conclude that this vehicle reeks with Pure Efficient Genius,  and thus meets the criteria to be declared a genuine IABM (Instant Awesome Babe Magnet).

[Image from the always excellent HERE.  Don’t miss The World’s Most Amazing Collection of Babe Magnets HERE.]

Babe Magnet: Batbug!

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Some folks take Batman lore very seriously.  And why not?  There are no laws, at least in this country, that forbid rabid BatFannage.  This particular example is very deceiving in that it efficiently transforms the ubiquitous beetle into the ORIGINAL BATMOBILE with relatively little effort.  Yeah, mock it all you want, but then compare it with the genuine item that we’ve provided for your viewing pleasure below:

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Okay, the bottom image is a model of the 1940’s version, but you can’t deny the awesome resemblance.  Therefore, the esteemed panel of judges at TR have voted unanimously to declare the VW Batmobile to be honored as a true and bonafide Babe Magnet.

On the other side of the coin is BatMockage, and here is a prime but innocent example. 7 out of 8 mocked him correctly.  The other one is destined to be an online furnace filter consultant.

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Top Image from this FINE collection of batpoopage
(pronounced, bot’ pu pazh‘). Second image, slightly doctored, from here.  Bottom image from here. Continue reading “Babe Magnet: Batbug!”

Babe Magnet: “Dude, like it’s green and stuff.”

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Been a while since we’ve posted a Genuine Babe Magnet. This isn’t one of them.  Or maybe it is, despite being a non-driveable found POS with flat tires and a nitrogen/nematode power plant to propel it at a top speed of nothing with botanical detritus for the interior finish.

The exterior finish screams San Francisco, due to the 1960’s retro paint job.  Naive college age girls with their effeminate art student boyfriends decorated this, and transformed a recyclable wreck into a recyclable wreck without salvageable parts.  In other words, it’s an urban heap made worse.

This is NOT a babe magnet. It’s nothing more than an elevated canine/feline restroom with a groovy paint job, nominated to be protected as sacred street art by the SanFran Cilly Clowncil.  Haul it away.

[Image Source here. Yep, the Russians found this before we did.  Go figger.]

[Update 26 November 2008: According to loyal reader Julie, an expert on matters such as these,  it’s a Toronto absurdity, not San Francisco as assumed reported. Read her comments in the section for comments section for her comments.]

I WANT THIS.

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In daylight it just screams “Outta My Way, Butthead!”

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But at night, it whispers, “Vaporizer Ignition Sequence Activated.
T minus ten and counting…”

“Check it out at night. This baby can be driven from a seated or standing position, fully envelops five in an interior that’s cozily lit and decoratively carpeted, has a premium sound system, and a centrifugal clutch. Then there’s the external rust patina—better call Maaco right now, because next year this color’s going to be impossible to obtain. Oh, right…not licensed for use on public roads, and the whopping price tag does not include shipping and handling. It’s going to take a lot of handling to get this to your place. On the other hand, it could become your place with just a few minor alterations.”

Before I order it, I need to verify if the water cannon is included or if it’s an after market add-on.  I still want it for neighborhood protection.  Couldn’t verify the size of the cooler either, but I understand that the hologram projector is a standard option.

[Images and italicized description from here.  Buy it for me, here.]

Zombie Babe Magnet

[This was emailed to TR by Dan S, but I don’t know the original source.  More after the break.]

And Just in case you need to defend yourself, here’s “How to Survive a Zombie Attack.”

Continue reading “Zombie Babe Magnet”

Babe Magnet: The James Bondomobile

Well, what do we have here, but a Pontiac POS that’s obviously in the process of restoration by the assistant manager of the world renowned Cable Car Hotel.   Hmmm.  Babe Magnet perhaps?

Smells like San Fran to me, and since the sun seems to be setting, I’d guess that Assistant Manager Baboso is on the night shift, especially since no sane person would wanna be seen within ten feet of this Babe Magnet in the daylight.  To his credit, though, Ass. Man. Baboso knows how to park on a slope.

By the way, the only other image I found of the Cable Car Hotel is this one:

Maybe the owner of the four-wheeled flounder actually LIVES here.  My apologies to the manager.

[Images from here and here.]

Babe Magnet: WWJD

That’s right.  What Would Jesus Drive?

According to one source, on 25 September 1990, Kelly Murray drove his ball 684.8 yards on the 30-foot wide airstrip at Fairmont Hot Springs, British Columbia, setting a new world record.

Of course, Jesus could drive as far as He wanted, but would hold back a bit so as not to completely eradicate the game.  He plays fair, and it’s not in His temperament to call His Father on the celestial cellphone and say, “Hey Pop! I got a 7:45AM tee-off time.  You mind warping space and time for a microsecond?”

On the other hand, He might just skitter one longways across a water hazard, up the bank, around a sand trap and into the hole instead, only to show that it can be done (and to inspire others to keep perfecting their game instead of yelling “F**K!” after each shot).

So what would He drive?  I’m guessing 150-175 yards with no wind… but He’d clean up with His putts.

[Image from here.]

Bunk’s Second Ride: Pre-Babe Magnet

Definitely not a babe magnet, but at that age I wasn’t interested and didn’t care.

I remember cruising around a lot in this rockin’ mobile (in my mind, in the basement, in my underwear) with the (imaginary) wind blowing through my flattop, and every station on the (pretend) radio playing either “WipeOut,” “Beechwood4-5789,” or “Witch Doctor.” No commercials.

And I’d completely forgotten about all of that until I slowly cruised through a Russian website.  As soon as I spotted an Original BunkMobile, I jammed my right foot through the cardboard box brake pedal, broke the the toilet plunger dowel that served as an emergency handbrake, and  I spun out on Dead Man’s Curve.  With quick reflexes, I recovered in time to right-click and click “Save Image As.”  No injuries, no damage;  brakes are good, tires fair.

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But that was my second ride.  My first ride was a chrome steel tube framed chair that hooked over the back of the front seat of Poppa Strutt’s 1960 Chevy BelAire.

The red-vinyl seat came equipped with a cloth cinch-belt, a little plastic steering wheel with a horn that Pappa Strutts dismantled before I knew that it was supposed to beep, and absolutely nothing to anchor the car seat to the car.

It was designed so that on an emergency stop, the Lil’ Roadmaster Car Seat launches Lil’ Roadmaster into the rearview mirror to prevent Lil’ Roadmaster’s noggin from penetrating the windshield. Pure efficient genius.

Which brings up a good question:  Why aren’t we all dead?

[Image from here.]

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