Category: Automotive

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.

—————————-

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.]

Humor-Blogs.com

Babe Magnet: Blew Flamer

Been a while since we had a good Babe Magnet post, and I’d completely forgotten about this one (forwarded by the lovely and talented Jen of Casual Slack several months ago).

What can we possibly say about this excellent example of Babe Magnetage that isn’t intuitively obvious to the casual observer?  More than you might think.

If I’m not mistaken, this Vehicle of Vapidity is a 1989 Nissan 4-dork that was originally silver, until Bonnie Phumph’s little brother Dirk took over the ride when Bonnie left for animal husbandry school in Middlevale last year.   Dirk went on a yellow spray paint rampage.

Puke Yellow Bile is not an attractive color for any Japanese import, so Dirk took it a step further with the LameFlame job.  But of course, just like any proud owner of a newly created Babe Magnet, he couldn’t stop there.  Nope.  He used the rest of the blue dork-spray paint to stencil “Dirk is King,”  “Dirk Rules” and  “Dirk Rocks” in Tolkien runes on the door panels just underneath the windows.

But he didn’t stop there either.  Enter a poor rendition of Marvin the Martian on the left rear quarter panel.  This work o fart just screams “Dirk is a complete moron!”  And just so anyone missed the message, Dork managed to knock off his rearview mirror in the Dairy Queen drive-thru and repaired it with, yep, you guessed it, duct tape.

Pure efficient genius.

[A truly amazing compilation of Babe Magnets may be found HERE.]

Humor-Blogs.com

Babe Magnet: The Spoiler

Well, well, well. What do we have here?

Looks like it’s time for the Dorkville Senior Prom, and someone’s dad brought home some scrap plywood and 1×6 roof sheathing from the jobsite again. He snagged an aerosol can of expansive foam insulation as well. The same someone’s mom scored some water color poster paint from the art supply room at Dorkville Elementary while Mrs. DeFarcas was busy washing the wheat paste off of Bobby Bieber’s face. Who could that someone be?

Trey Johnson. He’s that little s.o.b. from down the street that tried to let air out of your tires and only managed to release a half-pound before his fingernail ripped when you hit him with the garden hose on Halloween night a coupla years back. Now he’s a junior at Dorkville High, and he owns a staple gun. He tried to flatten your spare with it just last week.

Not much I can say that’s not intuitively obvious to the casual observer, except that TJ really screwed up the fit of the trunk and had to replace both rear light assemblies (you can’t chip away that foam insulation without damage) and got no dates for his trouble. Even the Dorkville Cheerleaders laughed at him.

Yet another great Babe Magnet. Pure efficient genius.

[Image from here.]

Babe Magnet del Pinto Viento

Whoa! This Monster Magoo automatically qualifies as a genuine Babe Magnet if only because its owner photographed it from dog-eye level and printed it in B&W just to keep the yellow snow in check.

Good God, I’m drooling over this one… way too many places to begin, so let’s start here.

IT’S A PINTO!

But wait, there’s more! It’s a dark color, prolly navy blue, with flames erupting from the wrong end of this rolling molotov cocktail. The Ford Pinto was designed to be, and was, a real carp car, until GMC AMC beat Ford to the bottom with the Gremlin. At least the Gremlin didn’t spray atomized gasoline all over the neighborhood when it was rear-ended by that little s.o.b. Bobby Bieber on his Honda 50.

In order to enhance the Pinto’s reputation as a rolling flamethrower, Earl “Tom” Slick jacked it up to make sure that ANY rear end collision would hit the gas tank, and not just the ones caused by Stevie Wonder backing into the 6-inch yellow-painted steel pipe filled with concrete adjacent to the Wendy’s drive-thru window.

Oh, but then there are the snow tires that say either “Granola” or “Formula.” If the former, Earl is the whelp of hippy wannabes; if the latter, Tom has at least one PET Milk fan in his nuclear family. He gets some serious BM points either way.

Good God. There’s just too much to comment on, like the air dam with what appears to be a Life Motto: “To the House.” Maybe it’s “To the Mouse.” Or maybe it’s “To the Noose.” Doesn’t matter. It’s there, and it’s going to the thing that it refers to. Whew.

This is a classic Babe Magnet if there ever was one.

We haven’t even touched on Earl’s aluminum tower. Two lame Carter carburetors take the place of one lame Rochester on a homemade aluminum chimney.

We didn’t get to the sound system, designed solely for Brownsville Station’s greatest 8-track hit. We didn’t clamp down on Earl’s taste in sidewalk sirens/pavement princesses.

SO much left untouched and undone.

This BABE MAGNET deserves a second helping. Fill in the blanks with a Number Two pencil in the comments section below.

[UPDATE: The air dam inscription is “TO THE WOODS” and makes just about as much sense as the other interpretations. Oh, wait, maybe it’s “TO THE HOODS.” Hold on… “TO THE WOOS’S?” I dunno, Babs.]

[Pinto Blowage from here.]

Babe (I mean Bitch) Magnet

[Okay, we’re talking about Definition No. 1 in Webster ‘s Unabridged here. This post is about DOGS AND THEIR CARS.]

“Opal, you hot little bitch! We’re off to the frisbee catchin’ competition, so quit yer yappin’ before I nip you in the hindquarters!”

Looks like Bowzer’s already caught one with his canine carriage of love. Gotta load of Cheese-N-Liver flavored MilkBones in the glove compartment, and a case of rawhide chews in the trunk, with Don Charles’ Singing Dogs, Howlin’ Wolf’s Greatest hits, and the full-length version of George Clinton’s “Atomic Dog” for later in the CD Player queue lineup.

Bow wow wow yippee yo yippee yay.

[Image from here.]

Babe Magnet: We Gonna Rock the Pavement

Actually, he’s about to start popping pavers, and unless he puts chocks under all four wheels he’s gonna end up in the pool on the other side of the fence.

Still, I wanna hear what THIS sounds like on THAT system. When this guy parks, all conversation stops south of the Aural Assault Vehicle (AAV), unless one is well versed in ASL, or you happen to be a quarter mile away and approaching from the north.

Rain? No worries. Just power it up, hit PLAY INDIE/TECHNO MIX, and raindrops are vaporized into winter dogbreath within a nineteen-foot diameter hemisphere, as the AAV self-propels itself down Interstate 10 on sound waves alone. Pure efficient genius.

Does he have a chance with the babes? Certainly, but in order to score he’s gonna hafta take requests and blast chick music with the volume set at 11. That’s when he risks being pounded into red applesauce by a dozen bikers roaring in from the next county over who don’t have an affinity for Hannah Montana.

Better stick with Hendrix and Steppenwolf, bro.

[Image from here.]