Mazda Miata, Bimota YB6, Lifted Lincoln Town Car Limo: The Dopest Cars I Found For Sale Online

You might expect a vintage British roadster to fall under “wrench;” a pile of rust and smoking wires that’s assembled into the vague silhouette of a car all ready for you to rebuild it from scratch with somehow better quality than the original factory managed. This Triumph, though, is something different.

It’s clean. Look at the body, the interior, the claims of fresh wiring and new LED headlights. This is a car that’s been gone through, turned into a perfectly usable roadster. All that’s left is to enjoy it.

I’ve been suffering, reader, from cabin fever. Here in Brooklyn, it’s been too cold to go out riding, which means I’ve just been staring longingly at my desktop wallpaper of my own F800GS. Sometimes I gently touch the monitor as a single tear streaks down my face.

You, though, might live in a warmer clime. If so, you should pick up an F800GS of your own, and then send me videos of you riding it so I can live vicariously through you. Please.

The Miata market is tough now, isn’t it? I once picked up a ’93 for $5,000, much like this, only it was an upper trim with low mileage — not like this 208,000 mile example with a leaking soft top. Also, mine was a stick.

This is the reality we’ve been left with by Miatinflation. The MPI — Miata Price Index — has skyocketed in recent years, forcing would-be NA buyers into worse and worse examples of the car. I promise that, if elected, I will immediately set aside federal funding to purchase these automatic-gearbox NAs and convert them to manual-transmission K-series drivetrains. Remember that, come November.

When did trucks stop looking good? I don’t mean good as in quality, but in terms of morality — when did trucks stop looking like the good guys? Everything now is hard edged, angry, brooding; they’re at best antiheroic and even that feels like a stretch.

What happened to trucks like the Datsun 620? Bright colors, round headlights, body lines that can be interpreted by a human mind that hasn’t seen R’lyeh. The only way to get this now is from Rivian, and that costs a hell of a lot more than $2,500.

Remember the first Michael Bay Transformers movie, when Bumblebee starts out as a ratty old Camaro before transforming into the then-still-a-concept fifth-generation car? I don’t think Bay went far enough in making the first Bumblebee look like crap. I think he could’ve done more.

Bay should’ve just used this, a “race ready” Camaro that’s been bored, cammed, and beaten within an inch of its life. By the specs in the seller’s description, it sounds like an absolute blast to ride. By its looks, it might be the wrong kind of blast.

I’m usually the “big trucks bad” girlie on this site, but it’s all a matter of context. Jacked up F-650 quadruple cab that you’re using to go buy a single wood plank wrapped in a plastic bag from Home Depot? That’s dumb. Old Taco that you’ve built for rock crawling? That rules.

Put those massive vehicles into the proper context — clearing actual boulders that require this kind of sidewall height, ground clearance, and suspension travel — and I become the “big trucks good” girlie. It’s all perspective.

Are you, like me, disappointed that the Volkswagen Rabbit Pickup wasn’t sold in the U.S. as a Harlequin model? Do you wish you could have a nearly 50-year-old notoriously unreliable German pickup with limited practicality, in every color all at once? No? Just me?

Well, if you’ve got my flavor of brain rot, this old Chevy is here to help. The seller claims it runs well, despite the looks, though they’re not above calling it a “shit box” in the context of possible trades. Think this would survive the drive from Oregon to New York? Could I badge it as a VW Caddy?

While that LUV had rust, this Mercury falls squarely in the “patina” category of cosmetic wear. This is the kind of rust-over-green paint job that every single derelict builder seems intent on continually failing to replicate, but this Mercury claims to be the real deal: Authentic, genuine rust.

That’s a good thing, I promise. You can’t buy this patina, you’ve got to earn it. Usually by leaving your car outside for decades, which is definitely a method of earning something desirable and not just the natural consequence of not owning a garage. Regardless, it looks great.

This Bimota is a gorgeous look at how race bikes used to be shaped. You can draw clear lines from this to modern MotoGP bikes, sure, but look at the simplicity here. The hard lines, the round lights. Bike design may have peaked here.

Bike power certainly didn’t, but the YB6 isn’t exactly a slouch — its claimed 135 horsepower in such a light frame is enough to embarrass most things. That includes you, if you go thinking it’s got modern six-axis traction control.

Folks, here it is: The first car ever to beat Takumi Fujiwara. Whether it counts or not is an issue of contention to this day, but make no mistake: Takumi’s panda Trueno and its beleaguered 4A-GE couldn’t keep up with Emperor’s Evo III.

This car was the sea change for Initial D, the car that forced the 86 to evolve. This was when it got the Formula Atlantic-but-throw-some-other-bullshit-in-there-too engine that revved like a Gixxer and made marginally more horsepower than a modern GR86. Ah, anime.

Andy has been on a Triumph Bonneville kick recently, despite refusing to actually go out and buy a bike. This slide is me enabling him. Andy, look at how cheap these are. You should go buy a Triumph Bonneville.

If you’re not Andy, though, the listing is available for you too. The seller claims it’s their first bike, that they rode it for a year but are looking for something lighter. They also claim it doesn’t run quite right until it’s warm, and mention something about a “Triumph Twin Power injection tune” — curious on a carbureted bike. Maybe you can figure out why it’s stumbling.

You have no idea how tough the decision was for lead image on this slideshow. The Bimota is gorgeous, it’s art on two wheels, but this is a lifted and offroad prepped Town Car limousine with a roof deck. This is a deeply unserious vehicle and I love it.

There’s no reason for this. There’s no context in which you can put it where it makes sense. It’s just this absurd, dumb vehicle, made by someone who seems to have more welding skill than common sense. More people should have that.

As long as I’m begging for things on modern pickup trucks, let’s bring back wooden bedsides. I know they’re worse in every conceivable objective metric, from “longevity” to “manufacturing consistency” to “keeping your things inside the truck instead of throwing them everywhere on the highway,” but look at this.

Is this truck not gorgeous? Does it not look fantastic with the wood panel aesthetic that’s happening on the rear? Are you telling me this Acty would be improved, meaningfully, by the addition of more metal around the rear? I thought not.

As a kid, I used to car camp in the back of a Land Cruiser at Lime Rock Park for the track’s vintage weekend. I think people should start car camping in Jimnies instead, and I have my reasons. First, look at it, with its offset hood scoop and TURBO badging. Second, imagine how fun this little guy must be to drive.

Sure, you may not have room to stretch out in back, but you can still fit a tent there. Camping outside of a car is still car camping if you used a car to get there. This is something I’ve arbitrarily decided, but I think you’ll agree it makes perfect logical sense.

I have no earthly explanation for this, only that it looks like a rejected Animated Series Batmobile and I have an immense need for it. There’s a tube chassis and a Toyota V6 under all that carbon fiber, but that’s not what’s important right now.

Look at that body, at the bright blue glass concealing the interior. This is a Hot Wheel, a moon rover from a pulp novel, it’s something that shouldn’t resist in full-scale reality. Yet, here it is. Take that, reality.