Bick 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.
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 TrueShitAboutCars.com.
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