One Lap of the Web: The Worst Cars in the World EditionMon, 31 Mar 2014 00:00:00 -0700
-- The first annual "Wal-Mart Car Show" is actually an Internet gallery featuring wood-bedecked Oldsmobiles, sponged minivans, Avatar tribute Silverados, and Subaru Outbacks with giant logs for bumpers.
There's no offical judging, so feel free to draw your own conclusions about the drivers of these questionable vehicles.
-- A Mitsubishi has many similarities to a Ferrari. Both companies end in the letter "i." Both companies once made a GTO. Both companies' fans can be insufferable. And both companies are represented in this fine motor vehicle from Japan and Italy.
-- The Ferrari horror rolls on with this Porsche Cayenne that looks like the Ferrari SUV Enzo would have used as a studio apartment for his mistress(es). Did the Sultan of Brunei get drunk on imported Moutai and speed dial Luca Di Montezemolo again? "Yeah, Luke, buddy, I want you to, uh…hold on, let me patch in your buddy Piech, yeah, get me a Ferrari, that, looks, like, uh, one of your Cayennes, Freddy, and an industrial heating unit from the roof of an office park outside a major metropolitan area. Bill it to my constituents. Yeah, the kids are doing fine. Can you ship it to a council estate in Yorkshire or something? Tax purposes, you know. Tell Wolfgang [Schreiber, CEO of Bentley] that he owes me royalty checks for that Bentley SUV."
--What do you get when you cross a Nissan Altima with a BMW? You get -- wait for it -- the "Altimate Driving Machine." We are not apologizing.
-- Would you look at that -- Jay Leno finally finished restoring his Lotus Elan 26R! Finally, a car that's not terrible. His 26R serves as a loving tribute to both the real 26R and the Golden Era of sports car racing. Holy hell, it sounds amazing. "The car actually sings to you!" says Leno as he drives past a 101 Freeway off-ramp. And then, five minutes of noise from that sweet, sweet twin-cam engine, which is definitely worth the listen. Meanwhile, Jimmy Fallon's also buying a Ford-powered vehicle, we hear.
By Blake Z. Rong