You're on, babes. My four-cylinder oil-leaking wheel-rattling Sube with all the ten-year-old grime and the missing stolen hubcap and the cigarette ash coating the entire inside and all the bad-ass Republican bumper stickers and the angry-dem key-scratches on the doors, against anybody. (Not to mention when one of my buds scraped in "Vote Gore" in giant letters on my hood just to p!ss me off... Still shows... That b@stard...) Just give me a chance to warm the ol' gal up real good. We both wheeze like hell going up hills, haha... Where would you be starting from, eh?
We're starting out from AZ! Hey, if you're within a few hundred miles "out of the way," we'll pick you up!
We can just race to the front door, then, okay?