The Man Police Want to Take My Man Card Away!

I'm not always statin' the obvious, but when I am
 I say that Geraud is cooler than me.

Look, I never claimed to be the greatest man in the world. Wait, actually, I did. But I'm reconsidering. As far as the 'man' label goes, I recognize that I may be failing in a few places.

One of those places is with cars. I don't notice a '88 Lamborghini unless the girl in the passenger seat is winking at me. I don't see the baby blue Bentley in the other lane unless Halle Berry is driving it and Charlize Theron is changing clothes in the back seat. I don't know what a '49 Pontiac looks like or even if Pontiac existed in '49. And if you told me you were thinking about buying a 2013 Jupiter class Aviator with a 900 liter engine and a waffle iron in the trunk my eyes would glaze over and I'd say "cool" while actually thinking about The Game of Thrones, the Loch Ness monster, building on of those domino mazes where you knock one domino down and the rest come...

"What? Oh, yeah. Four score on the floor. That sounds great. Does it come with cup holders?"

Every car should have them!

That's the best I can come up with. Cup holders. If the car is still shiny on the outside I might ask about seat warmers. Shiny equals new. Not shiny equals old. Duh!

Look, I know that if someone walked up to me and said, "You wanna drive my Aston Martin?" that I should take them up on their offer. Other than that, I'm not sure if I should be in awe, excited, disgusted or unimpressed with your car, your wheels, your whip, your McDonald's wrapper/drink can holder on wheels.

My dream car has $3 million in the trunk, tickets to Paris in the glove box, and a case of 50-year-old scotch in the back seat. You could give me an '82 Chevette and if it meets the above requirements...did they make an '82 Chevette?...I'll be one happy SOB.

Me, my girl, my dogs and a Chevette with a bright fuchsia interior, cruising down I-40 with $3 million in back, a 4-liter engine, some of those double head cam thingies for good measure and a waffle iron. And don't forget the tickets to Paris.

Are these double head cams?
Should I upgrade to the quintuple heads?

Maybe my dream car has one other feature. It should be a convertible. Throwing $20 bills out of the driver side window while you're cackling like a crazy person just looks stupid! If you can't throw wads of money over your head so that the bills trail behind you like ice crystals behind Halley's Comet then why bother doing it?

Now...do they make an '82 convertible Chevette???