Author: Kim du Toit

Come Onnnn Powerball

Drive Time

Oh good grief.  Just when I thought I was over my Alfa Romeo infatuation comes this creature:

“Now Kim,”  you may well ask, “WTF were you thinking about — if Alfa Romeos are generally unreliable, pre-WWII Alfas practically define the genre!”

Aha.  But this isn’t  a pre-WWII Alfa.  To paraphrase the sales brochure:

Factory-approved recreation with 1968 Alfa Romeo Giulia underpinnings (1,570-cc inline four-cylinder; five-speed manual transmission).  Beautifully outfitted with retro-inspired aluminum coachwork by Zagato.  Finished in striking Rosso over Nero leather.

In other words, all you have to worry about is 1960s-era  Alfa unreliability.  That’s so  much better.

Anyway:  no airbags, no useless fucking doodads like lane change warnings, electrically-operated wing mirrors, and all that modern computerized shit that adds cost but not much else.

Like me, this Gran Sport is completely and utterly useless in today’s oh-so modern world.

I don’t care.  I’ll drive it, and die like a man.  With my pre-WWI gun strapped to my belt.

Want.

More Doubles

Entertainment

In a long-ago post (worth a read, BTW) I bemoaned the fact that my age-addled brain is having difficulty telling people apart.  Now there’s a new one:

Left:  Oz actor Hugh Jackman, and right:  Brit actor Richard Armitage.  I was watching The Stranger*  on Netflix the other night, and when Armitage first appeared onscreen I thought that Jackman had given up X-Men and was getting into Brit TV roles.

*Kim’s ranking:  5 out of 10 because the plot has more gaping holes than the 10pm dockside shift during Fleet Week.

Confused

Men & Women

From Insty:

 

There’s another way to have sex?  Who knew?

I always said sex is better from behind paper bags… but then again, I’m just old-fashioned about this kind of thing.

   
…collar and tie optional after the first date, of course.

Gospel According To Clarkson

Eco-Crap, Funny Stuff

One of the best parts of Top Gear and its Grand Tour successor is to watch when one of the trio launches into a rant about something or other.  And this one from Jeremy Clarkson ranks right up there:

INCREDIBLY, my email inbox is still being filled every day by people ­wanting me to give money to help… ­Australia’s homeless koalas. That’s like asking for money to help save Joan of Arc’s dodo.
What are they thinking? They reckon I’m going to look at the world and all the terrible ­problems affecting it then think, “Right, the thing that’s most deserving of my spare cash is some lightly grilled marsupial in Wombawombaland”?
…
The fact is that many of those Australian fires were started by drunken misfits in vests who wanted to see their handiwork on the news.
While global warming was blamed for the way the blazes took hold, the real reason is because environmentalist law- makers wouldn’t allow the level-headed to create fire breaks.
It was, therefore, the eco-mentalists who burned the koalas, so it’s up to them to buy the Savlon.

Read the whole piece to get some reality-based thinking.