It’s a rare honor, I suppose: two automotive parody sites took vague shots at me this past week.
I wasn’t sure about this one from Autoblopnik being about me until I saw the ending. This part’s not bad:
[T]he so-called “journalists” don’t care because by then they’ll be busy with the Panamera preview in Peru or the Sonata soiree in Switzerland, and even if they did attempt to feign some interest in the plight of the real-world buyer with whom they are so desperately out of touch, they’d never risk terminating that next trip to Tunisia by writing anything bad about the car. Yes it’s fast but the truth is a skilled helmsmith like myself can make better time in my amazingly awesome Accord, the most perfect car ever crafted by man, not that I would want to do that of course because then I would embarrass the Jaguar engineers who seem to think they’ve created something truly excellent.
The main thrust of this piece is that it’s somehow funny or beneath contempt that I drive a Honda Accord. I can live with that. After 8700 miles and counting, I’ve decided that I really like said Accord and I don’t care what anyone else says. Even John agrees. Yesterday he told me “The white car (Town Car) was a bad fit for us because we were really coooool and the car was really booooring but this is a good fit for us because it’s really cool.” So there you have it. To some degree, you can never please your critics. When I had two Phaetons and the Audi and three Porsches it was all LOLZ BARUTH IS A DOUCHEBAG TRYING TO SHOW OFF and when I dropped down to the Accord, the 993 and the Boxster some guy on Jalopnik literally wrote “Lol Baruth is poor now.”
Crossing the pond, we have a piece from Sniff Petrol. I wasn’t sure about this one either until I saw the repeated use of “Full Disclosure” which is something I say probably too much.
So this ride is fine if you like low cube crapola. Which I don’t cuz last time I checked I have one driver’s license and two big hairy balls. Thing is, there’s a problem here and I’m not talking about how fast I wore those skinny ass tires down to the bitch strips. See, if you’re the kind of beret wearing, tea drinking homo who lives in Europe you can buy this car as a diesel wagon with a stick. But in their ‘wisdom’, yet another cocktard auto maker has decided the sweetest piece of hardware this side of the Edwards AFB black hangar won’t be sold in the United States of fuckin’ A. Should they import it? Did I outdrive every over-stuffed golfing slacks shill on the event to the power of hells yea? Would a diesel wagon with a stick be what every so-called American consumer actually needs? Do I own over three guitars and spank them like my own dick every time I think about how fucking great I am? The answer is, fuck you mom, I was washing it.
Full disclosure – I’m awesome.
Sniff Petrol is written by Richard Porter, whom I indirectly parodied a few years ago. Autoblopnik is written by a guy who crashed a press car a couple years back and whom I kind of jammed up on TTAC as a result. So all’s fair in love and war. Still, I think the best mean thing that’s been said about me came from Mike Spinelli a few years ago, prompting me to respond obliquely.
And for the record, I don’t live with my mom!