Paris Hiltons new dream car, the Porsche Cayenne hybrid. I have a big white car! I wish I knew the make and model, but I’ve lost the owner’s manual and the letters on the trunk have peeled off. Although, I’ve narrowed it down, using a unique process of finding people over the age of eighty who still drive. I’m 100% confident it’s some type of Oldsmobile or a 1996 Ford Taurus. That being said, I’m not your typical car guy.
I did have a brief love affair with automobiles as a child. I think all little boys do. I built models, wrecked matchbox cars, worshiped my Lamborghini poster, and hauled my lunch box filled with micro machines everywhere. Little boys’ minds are fueled on fantasies of fast cars, skipping showers and staying up late — a playful life with no strings attached. As a child, I dreamt of cruising in my Porsche, on my holiest birthday, scoring the head cheerleader, and blaring Wu Tang. Instead, sadly, I got my first white car, a Buick Le Sabre. Soon after, I broke up with my fantasy cherry Corvette, was involved in a domestic dispute with my yellow banana Lamborghini poster and had my heart broken by the fast and easy Porsche. From there, my prized matchbox collection ended up as small pieces of metal retired to collect dust in my childhood attic.