Author: Kim du Toit

Comparison

Drive Time

Maserati re-released their GT model a year or so ago, and made a great to-do about its heritage, comparing it all the way back to the A6 tourer.  Okay;  let’s take a look:

1956 A6G/54 Zagato

2023 GT

Leaving aside the new GT’s Whore’s Red Lipstick (or whatever it’s called) color, and ignoring completely the fugly rims…

…the new one’s not bad (although surprise surprise, the 1956 model is the one that gets my dangler tingling).

Sadly, of course, it no longer has the V8 Ferrari engine of the earlier 2010-era GT, but the replacement 3.0-liter V6 is the same engine out of the excellent-but-impractical MC20 racer:

…so it can’t be all bad.

The new GT retails for just under $170,000 here at Boardwalk Maserati in Plano — a relative bargain in these inflated-money / overpriced sports car times, and $100k less than, say a Ferrari Roma — so at least it’s not that stupid, price-wise.  (The older GT used to cost about $150k, and the 1956 A6 G/54 will set you back well over $900k, if you can find one — they made fewer than a hundred, all told.)

Lovely, all three of them.  But what else did you expect from Maserati?

Some more pics of the 50s Maserati Zagato:

And the Frua-bodied Spider, which is so beautiful it should be illegal:

News Roundup

Bad News

Let’s start out with a trip aboard this week’s EVERYBODY PANIC!!! Express:


...note the weasel words “might be”.  (PFA = Pretty Fucking Awful — it’s a scientific term.)

And here’s something to make the Frogs and other Euros panic:


...won’t happen, of course;  the Frogs will just cheat those 13 points away.
[#Biden2020]

Meanwhile, just over the French border :


...keyword:  Belgium.

In Health News:



…and for once I’m not being sarcastic.


...[insert “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” joke here]

In the Unforeseen Circumstances section:


...Jeffery Epstein was unavailable for comment.  And more from Boeing Land:


...leaking like their profit margins, no doubt, the woke DEI bastards.
#SellBoeingStock

Some more Wokery Titbits:


...aaaaaannndddd this would also be the time to sell those CVS shares in your portfolio.


...well, let’s pause here and spare a thought for all those boyfriends and husbands who are caught in the fallout.


...let ’em eat carrots.

Our Advice Column:


...spoiler alert:  it’s 85.  Or should be.

And now, in link-free 

 

...typo, perhaps?
#BadEyes #OldFart

Apparently, the Princess of Wales has been busted for altering a family pic:

And finally, speaking of fine superstructures, here’s Canucki chick Mikayla Demaiter:

And that’s it for the news.

3 Voices I Can’t Stand

3 Inexplicable Things, Music

…and I’m talking about singing voices, not (say) political screeching like that of Hillary Clinton.

When these guys start singing, I hit the Mute or Skip buttons:

  • Bob Dylan (any song except Lay Lady Lay, which I can get at least halfway through before hitting click)
  • Steve Tyler (Aerosmith; Dream On is the most egregious offender)
  • Van Morrison (Brown-Eyed Girl… OMFG kill me now, but everything he sings is horrible)

And let’s not forget the chicks:

  • Joni Mitchell (I’d rather listen to blackboard fingernails ad infinitum  than any one of her songs)
  • Joan Baez (preachy bullshit, and that vibratissimo… ugh)
  • early Dolly Parton (until she stopped warbling and started singing)

Don’t get me started on the modern chick singers;  you all know about them.

Git ‘Er Done

Business, Economics

Looks as though Britishland has just become closer to Texas.

UK Business Secretary Kemi Badenoch welcomed Texas ­Governor Greg Abbott in Westminster to sign the Statement of Mutual Cooperation, hailing it a “landmark.”

The pact will address regulatory barriers to trade between Britain and Texas, helping to boost investment and commerce between the two ­economies and making it easier for companies to do business.

I’ll believe it when I can get Wadworth 6X from my local booze store, there’s a Greggs in the mall up the road, and a chippie in Plano West’s Legacy Hall.

And when I’m Over There visiting the usual crowd of maniacs and drunkards (a.k.a. my dear Brit friends), I expect to find decent salsa and Tex-Mex.  (Okay, I won’t actually eat the stuff, I just want to see it there.  In the battle for my belly between chimichangas and sausage rolls, there can only be one outcome.)

Go to it, Britishlanders.  I will accept no excuses.