V8 | Captsavage's Blog

If only I look like Eric Bana, maybe I wouldn’t need to look for a chick magnet…

Capt. Savage is on the prowl, looking for something sexy, something that get hot when you go fast, something that’s hard and stays hard, yep I’m looking for a new car. And now that I no longer burdened with a family, well at least not all of the time, I’m thinking it’s time for me to go for a BEAST.

Maybe something like this, and yep, please throw in this hood accessory, very attractive…

There is something sexual about prowling through car yards looking at new vehicles. The cars I have been looking at reek of testosterone, of leather, of burning rubber, or latent maleness.

Currently I am driving my former family wagon, one of those practical beasts, with seven seats, that you normally see domestic types picking up the kids from school in. Sexy it is NOT, a vehicle to cruise for chicks, FORGET IT!!!

Here is a picture of a car just like mine, and ok girls, I don’t think any of you are going weak at the knees…

Yesterday, one of my best mates dropped in, see https://captsavage.wordpress.com/2012/07/28/old-friends-old-friends-and-my-90th-post-yippee/

One thing I forgot to mention is that we went for a drive to look for chick magnet for me, aka, a new car. Yes Mr M and I went off to salivate over shining metal tubes with huge rubber extensions, very phallic indeed.

Cars have that effect on us men, more I think than the intended targets, i.e. women. Perhaps their effect on us men is more like Viagra, rather than acting as a magnet for girls? But regardless of their true worth for pulling birds, we blokes simply love the sound of a hot car revving, love it…

Yep I would be in heaven listening to this, music to my ears…

To be honest I am a bit of a closet hoon (Aussie for a petrol head). I was born and raised in the home of V8 motor sport in Australia, in the shadow of the mighty Mount Panorama (The Mount). Home to the legendary motor sports heroes and chick magnet, the one and only Peter Brock (my role model). The man won more Bathurst’s than practically anyone, and an Aussie icon.

(Now there’s a man who still looked good with grey hair)

As a kid I used to love making the pilgrimage up to ‘The Mount’, smelling all those motor fumes, burnt rubber, feeling the noise of those huge V8’s thumping through my chest. You practically grew chest hairs just walking up to the place.

The start of a typical race at The Mount…

The disappointing thing however about my Bathurst visits was the overwhelming number of beer gutted hoons that infested the place. Most of the visitors spent most of their time reaching for tinnies from their eskies, or wolf whistling women who stupidly (or intentionally) wandered too close to a gathering of these beer-gutted, alcohol fuelled, hairy chested gatherings.

Typical hoon behaviour that infests Bathurst on race weeks

So where was I?

Oh yeah, I’m looking for a new car, a potential chick magnet, now that I am footloose and woman free. My specifications, well it had to be something hot, something muscular, something that gets me all sweaty just looking at it at it!