Consumer Reports invaded by Martians

An Buick Regal, yesterday

An Buick Regal, yesterday

Just days after Consumer Reports recommended the Buick Regal over several European luxury cars, and following months of unprecedented Honda-bashing, officials at the magazine confirmed that the vehicle testing branch has, as many have surmised, been overrun by little green men from Mars.

“We suspected there was a problem back when our Vehicle Testing and Evaluation Division (VTED) (Ed. note: Cut me a break, not all of the acronyms can be funny) recommended the RAM 1500 over the Toyota Tundra,” said CR spokesappliance Ken Morewasher, “but we figured maybe they were simply evolving to become less like CR staffers and more like regular people.”

The Martian invasion was discovered late last night, when a member of Consumer Reports’ accounting staff made an after-hours visit to the automotive division to discuss some budget reports. There, he found a strange green-skinned creature with webbed feet and a single unblinking red eye removing what appeared to be a CR lab costume. The creature identified itself as a Martian, then firmly requested an escort to the person in charge.

“Fortunately, the staff member in question had a Conair Model XRV-2102 Multi-Purpose Ray Gun, which we recommend over other hand-held space-age weapons for its comfortable padded grip, impact-resistant carbon-trianolite barrel, and liquid-cooled transducer array, and was able to hold the Martian at bay until police arrived,” said Morewasher. “Had Bernie been carrying the Remington TN0072A Star Dispatcher Plus, which performed poorly in our scatter-beam heat index tests and has slightly lower than average predicted reliability, this story might have had a very different ending.”

Local police confirmed that a half-dozen Martians surrendered peacefully, and that the missing CR staffers were found unharmed in a rarely-used tea kettle evaluation lab.

“All of our automotive testers are now home with their families, and we look forward to them returning to their jobs of heaping praise on soulless Toyotas,” Morewasher said. “Are we sure we got all the Martians? Not really. If a Chrysler product wins another of our comparison tests, we’ll know it’s time to start taking DNA samples.”

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Bick Skruth drives the Dodge Challenger Hellcat

racerguyBick Skruth is an experienced racer, author, and genital hygiene specialist. He contributes to several automotive-related web sites as well as our own.

Hello, The Only Readers The Car Companies Would Give Two Shits About If They Had Any Sense But They Don’t! I’m just back from Portland, Oregon, where I braved the meth-addled masses in order to drive Dodge’s new Challenger Hellcat. I was surprised to be invited, not because I once totaled a Sebring by letting my friend’s pet llama give birth in the back seat, but because Chrysler is usually afraid to have real racers-slash-journalists like yours truly at their events. I expected to find a crowd of magazine and newspaper has-beens who think a free pair of Pilotis and a so-called “performance driving course” qualifies them to drive this 707 horsepower missile on a technical track like Portland International Raceway, and I was not disappointed. I knew from watching these guys weave around the track like Lindsay Lohan three days out rehab that they simply weren’t in the same zip code as me and my superior driving abilities. Cocktanglers.

Dodge at least had the good sense to assign babysitters to the wannabes, and yet I somehow got lumped in with these losers, even after informing them that I set the all-time track record at PIR in my awesome-ass Accord. Of course they didn’t believe me, but only because the track owners insisted I do it at night when no one was around. My time was, of course, way the hell better than anyone except me expected, so they made me seal it in an envelope, burn it, drop the ashes into a bottle of sulfuric acid, encase them in concrete and bury them in swamp in Louisiana, and all this only after taking a blood-oath that I would never reveal my time to anyone for fear of embarrassing every racing driver in the known universe and making them kill themselves in despair. What can I say — when you’re as amazing as I am, you get used to silly shit like this. Monkeylickers.

The 2015 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, yesterday

The 2015 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, yesterday

That explains why I was stuck in the Challenger Hellcat with some geriatric turd who claimed to have been instructing at PIR for twenty-five years, but then feigned shock and disgust when I blew straight through the chicane, spun the car in turn six and went ass-first through seven with two wheels in the grass. If he really knew the track, he’d know this was the fastest line. Instead, Grandpa ratted me out to the Chrysler narcs, who insisted that I give up the red key and return to the hotel in a bitch-ass six-cylinder Challenger SXT, which is a great economical performance value starting at just $26,995 plus destination, taxes and fees. Titfiddlers.

So how is the Challenger Hellcat? It’s too much, as in it’s too much for any mortal driver to handle. Seven hundred horsepower is a disaster waiting to happen unless you have super-human driving abilities and awesome grunge-band hair, both granted to you by aliens in a strange midnight ceremony on a mountaintop in Nepal. There is only one guy on this planet who fits that description, and it sure as fuck ain’t Nico Rosberg. Your average know-nothing piss-ant driver is going to roll this thing up into a ball faster than my hot-ass girlfriend can say “You can have five minutes and no kissing.” And at sixty large a throw, there are plenty of Skruth wannabees who will use the Hellcat as a one-way ticket to their maker. But that won’t stop the car magazines from plastering it all over their covers in a desperate attempt to fool a few more Mopar-masturbators into buying their withering rag, no matter what the cost in wasted lives and semen. Buttonfuckers.

Not that it matters, because automotive journalism is dead. Most people who “write” about “cars” are nothing more than Jay Leno wannabes who willingly blind themselves to the fact that they are sucking on the great silicon-filled tit of automotive PR, one that gorges them on free cars, frequent flyer miles, cheap wine and badly cooked beef tenderloin. Their so-called “reviews” are just gears in the machine, and the Challenger Hellcat is nothing but a pollution-spewing carrot designed to lure the mindless masses (who couldn’t give a candy-cane-colored shit what we have to say) into Dodge showrooms where they will drool on command over a useless wad of elephant spooge like the Journey, then happily bend over and smile as they take their $600 car payment and worthless extended warranty right up the service entrance. Everything is useless and everyone sucks. And when I say everything and everyone, of course I mean everything and everyone except you, my readers, the only people endowed with common sense and good looks and acceptably-sized genitalia.


You can read more of Bick Skruth at

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2014 Scion xD review

by Amanda Twatler-Perkins

A really cute Scion xD! Yesterday!

A really cute Scion xD! Yesterday!

Since I mostly blog about baby products, I was surprised when Scion called me up and asked me if I’d like to review the all-new Scion xD! I didn’t even know what a Scion xD was, but I said I sure! A break from writing about baby strollers and nipple shields would be welcome!

A PR person from Scion showed up with a cute little red car that was sooooo cute! Baby Emma loved the red car! She kept saying “Red ka, mommy! Red ka!” The Scion PR person told me the xD had been completely redesigned for 2014 with new chrome around the stereo knobs and thicker padding on the sun visors! She said something about the engine but it was hard to pay attention because baby Emma was getting hungry and fussy! But the Scion xD is a really cute car!

The Scion PR person asked me if I wanted to drive the cute red Scion xD, and of course I said yes! There wasn’t room for baby Emma’s Graco® Nautilus® 3-in-1™ car seat with SafetySurround Protection™, so we had to leave her at home! Oh well, every busy mom needs some “me time”!

The Scion xD was so sporty! I got on the highway and stepped on the gas and it zoomed away almost as quickly as my Toyota Sienna! And it felt so much smaller and sportier! The Scion PR person and I talked about knitting! She knits too! How cool is that, two knitters in the same all-new 2014 Scion xD! I even zoomed around a corner! Then we went to get massages and pedicures, and the Scion xD was soooo easy to park! The Scion xD was so sporty and so much fun!

When we got back home, I found the babysitter passed out on the couch after drinking a bottle of Nyquil and baby Emma playing in a pile of her own feces, but I had so much fun driving the all-new 2014 Scion xD that I didn’t care! The nice PR lady from Scion helped me clean up the cat vomit, and then baby Emma and I said goodbye to her and the cute little Scion xD! I was soooo sad to see her drive the cute little Scion xD away! It almost made me wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t let Brad get me shitfaced on ecstasy and beer the night we got pregnant with baby Emma!

The all-new 2014 Scion xD is a great car! I’m so glad I got a chance to drive the all-new cute little Scion xD! Everyone who wants a great little sporty car and doesn’t have a baby should buy an all-new Scion xD!

Amanda Twatler-Perkins is Mom-In-Chief of She has a bachelor’s degree in English and lives in Pasadena, California with her daughter Emma and husband Brad.

© Autoblopnik

Musk defends Tesla crash

Elon Musk on fire, yesterday

Elon Musk, yesterday

A week after a stolen Tesla Model S was involved in a fiery crash, causing Tesla’s stock price to drop by nearly $7, company CEO Elon Musk today held a press conference, causing Tesla’s stock price to rise by $1.50

“The Tesla Model S performed exactly as it was designed to do in a stolen-vehicle situation,” Mr. Musk told the assembled reporters, raising the share price by another seventy-five cents.

“The Model S intentionally crashed itself, bringing the chase to a rapid and safe end, while removing three or four pollution-spewing gasoline cars from service and improving the environment,” he explained. “The car then split itself into two pieces, allowing for easy and rapid exit from the vehicle for ambulatory survivors and saving time and labor for emergency personnel. The rear half of the Model S wedged itself in the doorway of a nearby synagogue, giving the criminals a convenient way to pray for forgiveness, while the front half set itself on fire, destroying vital fingerprint evidence in order to protect the occupants’ privacy.”

Mr. Musk paused to drink apple juice from his Lightning McQueen sippy cup, which triggered a $2 increase in the price of Tesla shares, then paused for a moment, causing Tesla stock to drop by half a point, before continuing.

“Had the car thieves been driving a gasoline car,” he said, “the results would undoubtedly have been much more catastrophic. The chase could have continued for several hundred miles, giving the criminals a much better chance of evading police. They probably would have been caught at an Arizona truck stop while in the process of catching gonorrhea from a couple of lot lizards, which is exactly the sort of behavior that internal-combustion cars elicit from their owners. Instead, the Tesla Model S performed exactly as it was designed to do, bringing the chase to a quick, environmentally-friendly, and spectacularly newsworthy end.”

Mr. Musk refused to take questions from the assembled reporters, citing a scheduled Duck-Duck-Goose charity tournament for which he was already late. Tesla stock prices rallied to pre-crash levels at the conclusion of the press conference, for which Mr. Musk was rewarded with a gold star sticker and a Fruit Roll-Up, causing Tesla share prices to increase by another $2.

© Autoblopnik

Related: Industry, stock market react in wake of Tesla flat tire

General Motors recalls its recalls

One of the affected GM recalls, yesterday

One of the affected GM recalls, yesterday

Just weeks after recalling every car it has ever made as well as cars made by other manufacturers, General Motors announced that it will issue recalls for several of the recalls it has issued this year.

“In recent months, our company has issued a large number of recalls covering several General Motors vehicles,” explained GM spokesbrand Todd Sillifartz. “While all of those recalls addressed important safety defects, many of them may have further unintended consequences, and we want to correct these issues as quickly as possible.”

Sillifartz declined to give a complete list of problems that could be caused by the soon-to-be-recalled recalls, explaining the corporation was still investigating. However, he did list some of the problems caused by the defective recalls,which include killing GM’s stock price, causing owners to panic and blame every single nearly-imperceptible issue on a problem that their vehicle doesn’t even have, and giving the general public the idea that General Motors is completely incompetent despite a hundred years of successfully building cars that usually get people where they want to go without killing them.

Neither NHTSA nor General Motors have reported any deaths or injuries as a direct result of the affected recalls; however, the recalls are blamed for killing at least fifteen careers and jeopardizing CEO Mary Barra’s chances of ever appearing on Dancing with the Stars.

Owners of the affected recalls will begin to receive recall recall notices next week telling them that their recall has been recalled, and giving instructions for how to handle their recall’s recall.

© Autoblopnik

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Bick Skruth drives the Porsche Macan

racerguyBick Skruth is an experienced racer, author, and fecal management technician. He contributes to several automotive-related web sites as well as our own.

Hello, Only People Who Matter! I’ve just returned from Willow Springs Raceway, this time to drive the Porsche’s new Macan. Ah, to be back at Willow, where I once broke the track record and won twelve races in a row in race a series you’ve probably never heard of because it’s so advanced. I’ll spare you the details, just know that I was, and still am, awesome.

Anyway, Porsche was afraid of letting us unleash the true track potential of their 400 hp grocery-getter, so they insisted that we be babysat by a bevvy of racing drivers. I drew two-time LeMans winner and three-time ALMS GT2 champ Patrick Long. I didn’t want to show the kid up, so I toned my driving down a notch or three. But you should have seen his face when I intentionally carried too much speed into Turn 4 and allowed the Macan to understeer to within inches of the wall! He was so angry that he insisted I get off the track immediately. No matter as having pushed the car hard enough to engage the transmission’s limp mode, I had completed my evaluation of the vehicle. I did tell Patrick I’d take him on any time, him in his favorite Porsche versus me in my awesome Accord, but he didn’t answer. Perhaps he didn’t hear my challenge because I was taking off my helmet as I mumbled it. Cockdonkey.

After our time on the track it was time for the long drive back to Los Angeles. My drive partner was some useless so-called writer from an increasingly-irrelevant print publication. It’s really difficult to properly evaluate a vehicle with one of these dickwashers in the passenger seat, what with the constant screaming, crying, and calling for their mommy. Here I was, trying to test the Macan’s on- and off-road abilities simultaneously by taking corners at a hundred plus with two wheels in the dirt shoulder, and he goes and accuses me of being reckless! I guess I shouldn’t expect any better from a guy who has taken five “performance driving courses” and yet still couldn’t run the Macan’s tires down to the steel cords in under a hundred miles the way I did. Assbounder.

The 2015 Porsche Macan, yesterday

The 2015 Porsche Macan, yesterday

So what did I think of the Macan? I thought it was unbelievable, as in it’s unbelievable that any suburban mom would have even the slightest bit of interest in a car like this. Seriously, if an awesomely able helmsmith like me can barely keep this thing on the road at 13/10ths, what makes Porsche think that Jane Housewife with her 2.3 kids and her fake tits and her sexually unsatisfying marriage will be able to do it? Hell, she’d be better off with my two-door Accord, which will out-drive any vehicle on the planet at any price on any road in any weather in any outfit with any aging-rocker hairdo as long as I’m at the wheel. Not that I expect any of my colleagues will be brave enough to talk about this estrogen-charged elephant on the room lest they lose their seat on the Gravy Train to Presstripville. Only I have the skill and the honesty to report these things skillfully and honestly. Shitfiddlers.

Of course, it really doesn’t matter what we say, because automotive journalism is dead. We are dinosaurs, pen-wielding freeloaders being flown hither and thither by a community of ass-kissers in cheap shiny suits desperate to convince their corporate taskmasters that there is a sensible business justification for them to continue getting shitfaced on the company dime. The truth is that the well-heeled small-dicked narcissists who can afford to buy the little woman an $80,000 compact CUV don’t bother to read the shit we write, and the drooling Neanderthals who read car reviews as a form of entertainment can’t afford an $80,000 compact CUV because they are too busy living above their parents’ garage and jerking off to photographs of the Aventador instead of getting out into the world to make a decent living. The exception is the brilliantly bright people who read my web site, who are the most talented and usefully amazing people in the known universe. Pissmunchers.

You can read more of Bick Skruth at

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