The Rake Magazine

Author: Chris Birt

  • Tank-Like Titilation

    As I mentioned before, my 166 piece photo library from the national automotive museum in Alsace is unweildly for online use. I focused mainly on potrait shooting of the most amazing vehicles on the planet–like this very early racing Bugatti from the 1920s.

    I’d show you some photos of the Royale (the rarest and most expensive car in the world) but the lighting was terrible–at least for my phone camera. But heck, I consider the "tank" shot above pretty good for a phone camera. And I’ve never minded titilation.

    P.S. If your tastes run modern, here’s clip of an M3 and an Veyron dragging it out (I have a pic of a Veyron but who cares.)

    ERRATA!!!: In my previous post, I said that Ettore Bugatti’s Dad was a celebrated sculptor–alas, it was his brother, Rembrandt. (Does AP suggest the use of stitled words like "alas"?. Anon.)

     

  • getdisbugouttame

    I admit that after a lifelong obsession with automotive things, I never really got what the fuss was about Bugatti.

    Until I actually saw one, then sat in it, then started it up at the national automotive museum in Alsace. Its all clear now. Ettore Bugatti was the son of a sculptor who is exhibited in the D’Orsay. His sculptures are macho things, the stuff that one might find in an upscale version of a Tony Montana boudoir–panthers, tigers, that kind of thing. All very emotive, which, in a nutshell defines the classic Bugatti.

    I’ve been so hot and bothered by these cars I have yet to find time to think or write about anything else.

  • Better Than An Italian Supermodel

    So how was JesusChristmas for you all here in the United States? I have been away over the holidays but I have not been wasting time.

    Au contraire.

    You see I have been busily working in France test driving cars that most people can only dream about. Cars even hotter than France’s new President’s bride to be (a former supermodel, shamelessly so). I’ve included a shot of the F40 I picked up in front of the Ritz on the Place Vendome’. This is the Ferrari that everyone wants due to its umitigated brutality (the last full car designed by the Holy Devil himself.)

    My photos are taking too long to upload at present but a Veyron is in here as well as a Gullwing and some more classic Bugattis, Alfas and Porsches.

    Who needs women, nez pas?

    (That’s what Nicholas has been known to say.) 

  • Chuck Huck

    I heard that Mike Huckabee is pals with Chuck Norris and that the "Huck and Chuck" show plays well in Iowa. Apparently the former preacher also takes alot of fitness breaks because he doesn’t want to slip and fall on the black prairie ice.

    And this guy is pals with Chuck?

    That sucks.

    I would like to suggest a few vehicles to spirit his formerly large rear end outside to spew a few more aphorisms to the faithful.

    (Photo: Mike taking some time off on a treadmill. Notice the oh-mi-gawd paunch he has developed by indulging his passion for ding-dongs. I pray their human counterparts don’t vote often.)

    I’ve already blogged about the 2008 Suzuki XL-7. It might be a good choice for a surging, underfunded campaign.

    He could also save some money with a stylish new 2008 Saturn Vue Green Line (the hottest new mid-sized SUV on the market).

    I am also told my buddy Andy GG (of Pontiac Aztek fame) is unloading his beloved Lunar Rover on E-Bay.

    With its over-the-top interior it’s man enough for Chuck.

    I can’t speak for Huck.

    P.S. And remember that "there is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures CN allows to live". This from chucknorrisisgod.com.

    Seasons Greetings.

     

     

  • Babes Without Beards

    Schick got themselves into infernally hot water for this one. Apparently Turbo Terry has been sourcing her likeness out to more than one razor company and automotive resource.

    The good news for The Road Rake is that Turbo Terry (indeed the honey on the lower right) is no longer capable of suing me for creating a verbally accurate picture of her likeness.

    Schick, on the other hand, is about to be sued by Pontiac for essentially using the same model that is in discussions with Gillette to cross-promote the "smoothest handling on the planet."

    What a mess. I detest the Pontiac product in all its forms and much prefer a low-priced Schick to the Mach III Turbo (the razor not the car). I also know for a fact that cross-dressing tends to be more successful than cross-promotions with this coveted demographic.

    A stumble with stubble it seems.

  • Man Enough for Moon Patrol

    I submit my good friend Andy Goldman Gray’s thoughts on his beloved Aztek, supposedly penned while he was flying on Nyquil. He is VP Marketing at United Way, so contribute some of your thoughts (even money) in a professional capacity.

    When has something so maligned
    caused such a devoted following as the fateful Pontiac Aztek? I was
    recently trying to describe to The Road Rake why I love my car, even though my wife
    gets crap about it when she borrows it to bring something big to work.

    The ‘bleeding edge," is a concept that Road Rake introduced me to this summer. So I guess I am just beginning to clot from my purchase of this fine piece of "American Ingenuity."

    I
    had three main purchase requirements when I bought this car/truck/AMC Eagle on
    steroids: 1. Lots of buttons and gadgets, 2. Uncommon
    styling, 3. A second home in the event that my wife threw
    me out.

    It turns out that this car was one of the first
    "lifestyle" SUVs. Unfortunately, it came packaged in a really, really ugly
    box. Sure, you can put your bike on top of a Nissan Xterra, but the Aztek
    has a bed and tent built right in. This is why so many of the Aztek’s
    owners (secretly) champion their car. Car clubs, social networks, and
    local owners support groups have devoted a great deal of time to overturning this
    "worst car ever" tag.

    Get past the
    "moon patrol" facade, and it’s everything a man could love. Moon Patrol

    True story– my wife got a fortune cookie
    at Chino Latino that said, "If people were cars, you’d be a little red Corvette,
    unfortunately your date would be a Pontiac Aztek."     I think this was
    supposed to be sardonic, but I’m proud to be an Aztek owner.

    And my wife still loves me. You bet my sweet Aztek she does.

  • Can a Horse Convert to Scientology?

    Photo: He doesn’t have the stomach for it, nor do I.

    The recent article about Scientology reminds me of an ordeal my business endured last year (and it has a car angle).

    I have created advertising for the National Western in Denver for the past three years. It is the world’s largest stock show (800,000 attend). Our campaign has made the animals the "Rock Stars of the West." While we’ve had a few run-ins with PETA, we’ve had more trouble with the Scientologists.

    It all started when one of our ads claimed that the horses of the Show would be "The Only Stars Not Converting to Scientology"

    The Church thought otherwise. Lawsuits were threatened, the ad was pulled, and we got around a personal lashing from Tom Cruise only by agreeing to send the agency to a day of (unpaid) sensitivity training at their HQ in suburban Engelwood.

    It was bad.

    What made it truly unbearable was the insensitivty of their staff towards my beloved Mustang (real horses scare me, so I drove my car). While we were being walked out of their building to the parking lot, I was treated like Mephistopheles for worshipping such a gas guzzler.

    Right.

    I’d like to see their puny church choirs match my Cobra Kenny’s awesome pipes.* While I am not sure their churches even have choirs, apparently some Scientologists have little sense of humor.

    * I just sold my Cobra "Kenny," but his spirit has not left me. Especially not his heavenly custom-tuned Bassani exhaust.

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Samurai Transvestite

    I have a secret.

    There is a vehicle that I have wanted to blog about for months. To be honest, if I came right out and told you the name of this vehicle you would laugh. It has no cred. So I’ve kept it quiet. Till today.

    My recent foray into cross-dressing drag sites has given me new confidence about introducing this vehicle. Before I name the vehicle, allow me to tell you a little about the Japanese art form that has inspired its design.

    This vehicle is inspired by Kabuki and Noh Theater (intrigued?). Samurais in the old days would play many parts in Kabuki Theater. This vehicle is no Samurai, but it makes a passable Kabuki actress–considering that all parts in Kabuki are played by men.

    [rakead:Middle] 

    On that note, please meet the Suzuki XL 7. If you spot one of these rare vehicles on the road the overall effect is reasonably dramatic–all the more impressive considering that the SUV is a cousin to the milque toast Pontiac Torrent and Chevy Equinox.

    If you look closely at the grille, you can see a Kabuki mask in there. Its enough to make you forget about the humble cheap motorcycle origins of this brand. Its almost enough to make you talk up this SUV at a cocktail party when you consider few SUVs are inspired by anything more than the need for pony-tailed blonde women to waste gas.

    Its beauty goes more than skin deep, however. The Suzuki has been stretched to accomodate a third row seat (the only in its class.) It also features an excellent V6 engine with solid torque that is unique to the Suzuki. Finally, it offers a 10 year 100,000 mile warranty. All for about 23-24k. If you want the complete picture, I’ve linked it here.

    On price alone, it embarasses many competitive SUVs.

    On the other hand, this SUV is no Samurai. Dynamically it’s on par with most trucks. I also would not want to be caught submerged in ice water or traveling naked over a freezing mountain pass in this truck (typical Samurai training regimens.) There’s nothing manly about it.

    If you keep an open mind however, this stylish Kabuki kart makes a impressive ride for anyone comfortable in their own automotive skin. 

     

  • Mustang Strippers From Mars

    A while back, my editor informed me that blog readers enjoy hearing
    about the author’s personal life. While I remain suspicious about this
    online axiom, I will admit that I read car magazines. I peruse so many
    car magazines and sites in a week that it leaves little time for
    discretion. Because of this, I frequently encounter photos of people
    with more modifications than the vehicles they are pictured beside,
    astride, etc.

    Because The Rake has standards, I will not stoop to link my sources. Allow me instead to provide a sanitized description of "Turbo Terry And Her Tantalizingly Tenacious Tarmac Terror Machine":

    Terry — She
    appears to be 5’11". It is difficult to gauge her actual height due to
    an ambidextrous engagement with a parachute protrouding like a giant probiscus from the drag-prepped Mustang’s (it appears) rear.

    TTTTM — The actual vehicle is difficult to describe, as it is so closely entertwined with the Aphrodite. The description of the car, however, is more precise at second glance and worthy of deconstruction. Permit me:

    Tantalizingly —
    It looks like the parachute has startegically placed its "tentacles" on
    the model’s figure, and I am now certain the etmology of tantric stems
    from this word (or vice versa).

    Tenacious — I can’t think of a better adjective to describe the grip that drag car must gain on the pavement or tarmac with its tires.

    Tarmac — A simple & direct word for pavement. (Strunk & White)

    Terror —
    Stand near a Christmas tree (the green light pole, essentially) at an
    NHRA event, and you too will know something beyond fear. Good drag cars
    inspire this.

    Machine — Another stab at Strunk & White. Kudos.

    Which brings me finally to the model’s full name: Turbo Terry.
    While unremarkable as a nom’ de plume, I now understand why a
    gender-neutral name was used to describe her. I also understand why the
    parachute was placed so cavalierly across the upper torso but so
    carefully further down.

    At first I thought I was looking at another stripper (as common as a good steak in Kansas City on car sites).

    Suddenly nothing is as it seems. . .

    No, I am not on Mars.

    But I am apparently on a drag site.

  • In Thrust I Trust (Again)

    Bonding. Its something that women tend to fret about with men, as in "go and do your male bonding thing."

    While I am sure men like me are essentially Pavlovian and conditioned to do what women say, it gets more complicated when I think about cars. I don’t need to bond with my buddies, but I do need to bond with my cars. This could be the reason I have had trouble bonding with my Benz.

    I acquired this E550 a few months ago which made it neccessary for me to sell my beloved 530 HP Cobra and possibly even my Alfa Spider Veloce. I just can’t sit on that much depreciating iron and an increasingly depressed wife (I understand, honey).

    Fortunately, things have changed.

    While putting my Cobra up for sale on EBay this weekend, I came across a site for Drag Times "the world’s only quarter mile website." Lo and behold there was my E550 with a stock quarter mile time of 13.4. and 0-60 in 4.8 sec. That’s right in Cobra range (with Range Rover luxury to boot).

    While I realize this entry is reading like a MySpace page full of vacuity and lacking in depth I must say I suddenly gained the respect for the Benz that I have always had for my Cobra. I felt so good about it that I went out and tested its rev limiter on a midnight jaunt out to Cantebury.

    I can proudly say that in thrust I trust once again, and I thank Mercedes for letting me break 135.