Start Your Engines, Gentlemen

Hi, I'm Ms. Motor. For the next week, I'll be here to try and add a feminine voice to Jalopnik. And by feminine I mean not at all.

I've worked in autos for a few years and spent a bit of that time in motorsports. By motorsports I mean road racing, not a series of left hand turns around an oval in repeat. I'm a car enthusiast, like you, and my love of cars comes from growing up around over-engineered German beasts like the e30, W140, and 993.

I grew up idolizing drivers like Mark Donohue and Quick Vic Elford. Oh, that Quick Vic. Wait, I'm wrong. I didn't figuratively idolize him so much as literally worship him at Quick Vic's holy church of England. Wait. No, I wouldn't just worship there, I'd be the chief disciple. Hell, if I had a kid, I'd gladly sell him into slavery just for a chance to drive a 911 in Rally Monte Carlo.

So why the name Ms. Motor? It's because I come from the dark and seedy underbelly of the auto industry and I have a lot of secrets. I may even share some of them with you — if you're good. By keeping things anonymous for the moment, it allows me to give you the unvarnished truth without risking my sources. See, everyone's a winner.

This'll be fun, just you wait and see.