Suze Rotolo died last week at the age of 67, but she'll be forever a teenager thanks to the album cover of "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan." She was Dylan's girlfriend in his early days in New York, and spurred several of his best songs, from "Boots of Spanish Leather" to the one above, "Ballad in Plain D." But its that single picture that's endured, for the way she leans into Dylan while walking through the snow that's less about the cold around them than the warmth between them. Certain images have a way of sticking with us without regard for our wishes, a problem Loki suggested we tackle when faced with Mansory's latest creation.

Because this is Mansory, I'm going to provide my insight and ideas herein.

I don't think it is carbon fibre, but rather a pseudo-CF painted onto a magnesium shell of what it once was, to remind you that you'll have this piece of shit for as long as you live, or until some sap puts you out of your misery by what I describe next.

The only way to effectively rid yourself of the Mansory curse is through this very specific method of... "cremation", if you will. First, you must coat the car in gasoline. It doesn't have to be thorough, just enough to start something that will grab their attention. Next, you wheel it into an epileptic convention (why there would be a room full of epileptics, like a convention hall, is beyond me). Then, you proceed to light it with a flare gun from a distance and run like hell, sealing all the exits you can before you're out. All this while a halfassed and shitty mashup of a 5 hour playlist of DnB, Dubstep/Brostep, Jungle, Trance, Liquid, and shitty House artists who used their trust fund money to drop out of class and seek a life producing music that took them all of 5 minutes to make in its entirety, blasts from the large speakers throughout the area.

All while you drive off in the George Barris Batmobile while listening to Bob Marley's "I Shot the Sheriff". Because you can.