Tag Archives: Auto

The Nilu V-12 Supercar from designer behind the Bugatti and Koenigsegg

Sasha Selipanov is the kind of car designer who looks at a blank sheet of paper and says, “What if this… scared people just a little?”

He’s basically the mad scientist of automotive styling: part artist, part engineer, part guy who definitely owns at least one pair of sunglasses too cool for normal daylight. This is the man who helped shape cars like the Bugatti Chiron and Lamborghini Huracán—vehicles that look less like they’re meant to be driven and more like they should burst out of containment in a sci-fi movie.

Selipanov designs cars the way action movies design explosions: bigger, bolder, and ideally with more carbon fiber. His aesthetic could be summarized as “what if aggression had wings?” He doesn’t draw curves; he draws aerodynamic threats.

If cars had personalities, the ones he designs would stare you down in a parking lot and say, “Nice sedan, nerd.”

In short, Sasha Selipanov is the Da Vinci of “I dare you to drive this faster than you should.”

Lamborghini Murcielago Roadster Is a Wild Exotic Supercar

The Lamborghini Murciélago Roadster is basically what happens when someone says, “I want a car that sounds like an earthquake and costs as much as a small castle — but could also give me a sunburn.”

This wild Italian bull looks like it was designed by a team of caffeinated origami masters who hate subtlety. It’s got scissor doors that make every grocery run feel like a red carpet event, an exhaust note that could wake the dead (and make them jealous), and an engine so loud it doubles as a relationship test.

Driving one is like wrestling a thunderstorm while wearing designer sunglasses — thrilling, terrifying, and guaranteed to make pedestrians whip out their phones. And that soft top? Oh, it’s there mostly for decoration. Putting it on takes longer than most relationships last, so you’ll just leave it off and pray it doesn’t rain.

In short: the Murciélago Roadster is a 600-horsepower middle finger to practicality, and it’s glorious.

BYD’s Yangwang U9 Xtreme hits 308MPH, now the world’s fastest production car

Driving over 300 miles per hour is like convincing a hurricane to give you a piggyback ride while you try to drink a latte. The world stops behaving like “scenery” and starts behaving like a smeared oil painting someone sneezed on—trees become green streaks, road signs flash past so fast they might as well be subliminal messages, and your face feels like it’s trying to migrate to the back of your skull.

Your car, meanwhile, is having a loud and existential conversation with physics. Every bolt is screaming “WHY ARE WE DOING THIS?!” while the tires grip the pavement with the desperate enthusiasm of a cat clinging to a bathtub edge. Even the air itself is offended, punching the vehicle with invisible fists of drag. Blink once, and you’ve traveled a football field; blink twice, and you’ve crossed a county line. At that speed, “oops” isn’t just a mistake—it’s an autobiography.

It Did Not Go Well…The Girls Road Trip a Classic Corvette And BARELY Make It Back Home!

The 1968 Chevrolet Corvette was basically America’s way of saying: “Why settle for subtle when you can drive a spaceship with a V8?”

This thing rolled off the line looking like a shark that got lost on its way to an Evel Knievel stunt show. Chevy called it the “C3,” but it was really the automotive equivalent of bell-bottom jeans: long, low, and screaming 1960s cool.

Some highlights:

  • Design: It had curves on curves, the kind that made other cars look like filing cabinets. With those swoopy fenders and a body that looked like it was flexing in the mirror, it didn’t park—it posed.

  • Pop-up headlights: The car literally winked at you before blinding you with high beams. Very James Bond, if James Bond lived in Ohio and sold insurance.

  • Interior: It had more chrome inside than a diner, and the dashboard looked like a pilot’s cockpit—perfect for people who thought parallel parking was basically a space launch sequence.

  • Performance: Under the hood, you got a thumping V8 that could rocket you forward with enough torque to rotate the Earth slightly. Of course, handling was… let’s call it “dramatic.” You didn’t steer a ’68 Vette; you negotiated with it.

So the ’68 Corvette was less a car and more a declaration: “I have arrived, I am loud, and I’m leaving a trail of tire smoke as proof.”

Driving BMW’s Ultimate Halo Car! The BMW Z8

The BMW Z8 is what happens when Germany has a midlife crisis but does it with impeccable style and a V8 soundtrack. Designed to evoke the classic Bond-worthy 507 from the ’50s, the Z8 is all long hood, short rear, and “I make questionable financial decisions but look incredible doing it” energy. It’s like a supermodel with a law degree—gorgeous, sophisticated, and probably faster than you in every conceivable way. With its retro-futuristic design, the Z8 looks like it drove out of a James Bond film and accidentally ended up parked at a Whole Foods.

Driving the Z8 feels like piloting a leather-wrapped rocket powered by pure confidence and 400 horses of Bavarian engineering. The steering talks to you, the exhaust sings to you, and the aluminum body reminds you that this car is lighter than your ego after a good hair day. But it’s not just a pretty face—underneath all that suave, it’s got the heart of an M5 and the charisma of a 1960s playboy. It’s rare, it’s expensive, and owning one means you’re either a collector, a movie villain, or someone who said, “I want a car that costs more than my house—but sparkles more, too.”

Emira vs GT4 – Our biggest Road Trip yet! || Road to 1,000, Part 1

Everyday Driver is like Car and Driver got tired of spec sheets and decided to go on a scenic road trip with two dads who argue over whether the Miata is “enough car.” Hosted by Todd and Paul—two car nerds with the combined enthusiasm of a Cars & Coffee meet and the mild passive-aggression of an HOA board—they drive everything from budget beaters to supercars with the kind of thoughtful analysis that says, “I know this is a track weapon, but could I fit a Costco haul and a stroller in the back?” They’re not here for drag races or tire smoke (usually); they’re here for actual driving, like it’s some sort of pure, sacred art. Which, to be fair, it kind of is—if you’re the kind of person who cries when a car has hydraulic steering.

The channel feels like a well-produced buddy road trip where nobody throws punches, but plenty of shade is tossed at bad infotainment systems. Paul will explain why the Porsche Cayman is perfectly balanced like a sushi knife, while Todd gently reminds you that your dream car might bankrupt you in brake jobs alone. Watching them is like getting automotive advice from your smartest car friend and your most reasonable one—except they’re the same person split into two bodies, arguing over whether a Mustang can actually turn. And somehow, you end up genuinely thinking, “Yes, I do need a manual BRZ for my daily commute, thank you, wise car monks.”

Why I Drive an Off Road Lamborghini Huracan Sterrato

The Lamborghini Huracán Sterrato is what happens when a supercar gets tired of red carpets and wants to go camping—but like, glamorous, 600-horsepower, carbon-fiber camping. It’s basically Lamborghini’s way of saying, “Yes, we can off-road. We just prefer to do it at 150 mph while looking like Mad Max’s favorite influencer.”

Imagine taking a Huracán, lifting it up like it just joined a monster truck crew, slapping on all-terrain tires, and giving it dirt-kicking rally fenders. It’s as if the car got tired of valet parking and said, “Screw it, I’m taking the fire road to Coachella.” It’s loud, fast, impractical, and completely unnecessary—which is exactly why it’s brilliant.

Delorean Time Machine may be the MOST FUN you can have owning a car!

The DeLorean DMC-12 is the perfect example of what happens when a car is designed for cool factor first, practicality last. With its stainless steel body, gull-wing doors, and an engine that could barely outrun a determined jogger, the DeLorean was less of a speed machine and more of a conversation starter. Sure, it looked like it belonged in the future, but in reality, it had all the horsepower of a rebellious lawnmower. Yet somehow, this quirky, underpowered, over-stylized car became one of the most iconic vehicles in cinematic history—thanks to one tiny modification: a flux capacitor.

Enter Back to the Future, the only movie that could convince us a DeLorean could hit 88 mph without a strong tailwind and divine intervention. With a little Hollywood magic (and a lot of plutonium), this car transformed from an automotive oddity into a time-traveling legend. It wasn’t just a car—it was a gateway to adventure, paradoxes, and some very questionable alterations to the space-time continuum. And let’s be honest, nobody watches Back to the Future without immediately wondering, “Could I daily drive a DeLorean?”—before remembering that opening the doors in a tight parking space would require the flexibility of a gymnast.

Looks like your car might be the ultimate snitch.

Buckle up, folks—this is a story every driver needs to hear. Turns out, automakers might be playing backseat driver with your data, allegedly tracking your every turn and then spilling the tea to insurance companies. The plot twist? Some drivers claim their premiums went up faster than their speedometers, all without proper consent. So much for “what happens in your car, stays in your car”!

“Keeping our customers’ data safe is a top priority” is corporate speak for “OOOPS We got CAUGHT and because we could get SUED by millions and potentially lose customers, we’ll MAYBE do something about it”

1970 chevelle transmission explodes on the dyno

Dyno operator got really fucking lucky 😂

Ah, the early Chevy Chevelle – the car that looked like it spent weekends pumping iron and guzzling gasoline by the gallon, because who needs fuel efficiency when you’ve got muscle? Imagine a car that gets parked in front of a diner and instantly becomes the coolest thing on the block, leaving every other vehicle’s headlights green with envy.

The first Chevelle, born in 1964, was Chevrolet’s response to the muscle-car craze. It had the subtlety of a brass knuckle in a velvet glove. It came in various flavors: mild, spicy, and “don’t-try-to-drag-race-this-beast.” By the time the SS 396 rolled out in 1965, it had enough horsepower to launch a modest-sized boat… or at least enough to let everyone in a five-mile radius know it was nearby.

This was a car with a “don’t mess with me” front grille and a roar that said, “I may be going straight for now, but corners are for weaklings.” The steering had a mind of its own, and driving one was like arm-wrestling a bear on a caffeine high. But boy, did it look good while it did it. The Chevelle was ruggedly handsome with chrome for days and a stance that said, “I may be mid-sized, but I’ve got big ambitions.”

And yes, the early Chevelle wasn’t built to handle like a European sports car or win any eco-friendly awards, but if you were looking to have a blast at the stoplight and wake up the entire neighborhood on a Sunday morning, the Chevelle was your ticket to horsepower heaven.