LS6 Porsche 944, Dinan BMW M3, Pinzgauer 710M: The Dopest Cars I Found For Sale Online

“Dinan” is one of those magic words in the automotive world, one that might mean something interesting but could mean almost anything. You click on an ad for a Dinan M3, and you’re just as likely to land on a supercharged performance car as you are a 318i on Dinan wheels.

To save you the suspense, this M3 is the former. There’s a supercharger tucked under that hood, and the seller even claims the transmission’s been rebuilt to handle the extra power — with an extra gear thrown in for good measure. There’s something interesting happening with the documentation (the seller says “Car had non op in storage”), but it won’t be fully clear what that all means until you email the seller and start asking questions.

These late-80s Thunderbirds, with the Pontiac-like nose dipping between the headlights, have always felt very Mad Max to me. Not the Mad Max series, mind you, but the un-subtitled first film. Back when the car was new-ish, clean-ish, and almost entirely one color.

I realize I’m just saying that a Thunderbird looks like an XB Falcon here, that a Ford coupe looks like a Ford coupe, but I don’t see that as a bad thing. If every render of a Pontiac revival can use the Bandit’s screaming chicken, why can’t a newer forced induction Ford be dressed up like an older one? Someone buy this Thunderbird and replace the rear end with fuel tanks, is what I’m saying.

I had a poster of this generation STI (an 8x10 printout I made with the last dregs of ink in my printer) on my dorm room wall back in college, when it had just cycled out of being the current body style. It still looked great — fresh and modern and cool. Nearly a decade on, it’s interesting to see how public opinion has changed.

This ad includes, among its photos, promo images for aftermarket head and tail lights. They aren’t installed on the car — yet — but they’re both designed to hew closer to a modern Subaru design language. They’re a means of updating the car, but the car isn’t old. What are you talking about? It was 2011 just two years ago. “Pompeii” is brand new and I will not hear a word of protest.

I appreciate a seller who isn’t here to waste my time. Sure, heavily modern cars should have a full build sheet in the ad description, but this is no tuner Evo. This is a run-of-the-mill Mercedes that’s well into middle age, and the ad reflects that.

“Please know what you are looking at, this is a 44 year old collector car.” If you have to ask about the engine, the amenities, the fuel, it’s not the car for you. Do that research ahead of time, browsing forums and reading reviews, to know if this is what you want in life.

Of course, if you want classic looks, you don’t actually have to buy something that’s old enough to have its doctors start bringing up colonoscopies. Retro-modern cafe racers were all the rage in the mid-20teens, and now they’re just littering Craigslist as trend chasers switch to middleweight ADVs. Not like me, a Brooklynite who bought a middleweight ADV for other, much more genuine reasons.

There’s actually a Guzzi much like this one that sits next to my BMW in the local bike garage. The chrome on these things just glistens, perfectly smooth and unbroken. Everyone you ride past on a sunny day will hate you for it, but you can’t say you won’t be noticed.

Back in my Rochester arc, I nearly bought an S2000 for $12,000. Twelve grand. Sure, I would’ve had to drill out the rivets holding the questionable widebody on and fill the holes with Bondo, but come on. Now, double that price looks like a deal.

Granted, for your $24,500, you do get a much better car here. Low mileage (if you average it by year), a brand new soft top and a Seibon carbon hard top — it’s clearly enthusiast-owned and enthusiast-loved. You’ll miss out on the fun of rivet drilling and wrap removal, but hooding around at 9,000 RPM is probably a better use of your time.

The best word for my feelings toward this Chevy is intrigued. Why does the patina start immediately after the hood line? It’s fairly symmetrical on both sides, and neither one shows the same kind of marring on the hood as it does on the fender and door. Much to consider, and to wonder, here.

Of course, this joins the list because of my ongoing fascination with boxy pickup trucks in faded neutral earth tones. Someday I do think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and buy one, assuming I can shave one of those zeroes off the purchase price. Maybe two, if I need to start paying for parking.

Californians always bemoan the state’s smog regulations. They say that stock cars fail, that it’s impossible to be an enthusiast on the West Coast. I, however, disagree. If the powers that be will let you register a former Swiss Army vehicle, there must be someone willing to overlook your cat delete.

The moniker of “Swiss Army vehicle” actually fits this Pinzgauer in more ways than one. For one interpretation, there’s the sheer openness of the truck — it can be an off-roader, a party vehicle for all your friends, a place to camp out under the stars. For another view, it is adorned in decals for the actual army of the nation of Switzerland.

The DesertX has always been one of the more off-looking entries in the middleweight ADV segment to my eyes. It’s just so front-heavy, with nearly all its body-colored panels sitting ahead of the rider. Something about it looks unbalanced, off-kilter.

RyanF9 will happily tell you that this is because the rear of the bike — and its auxiliary fuel capacity — is sold separately, to be attached and plumbed in later by a certified Ducati dealership. Even with that tank, though, something isn’t quite right with the styling here. I guess it’s good that the Ducati is one of the highest-performing bikes in the segment.

I’m starting a petition for Toyota to rename the Corolla to simply “Car.” The GR can get a fancier name, that’s fine, but I think we should call a spade a spade here. The Corolla is the default vehicle, the ur-Car, four-wheeled transportation boiled down to its most essential elements. These are all compliments, and the Corolla deserves a title befitting its station.

Take inspiration from your old pickup, Toyota. Slap a name on the tin that describes exactly what’s inside. The Pickup was ideal branding, it was perfect in every way, and it’s a legacy that the company should honor to this day.

Inside every one of us, there is a Vee Cue Boy. There is someone who wants to limo tint every window, slap the worst rep wheels known to man on all four corners of a car, and sit on the limiter at 3AM the whole way down to the local car meet. We deride VQ owners, but we forget that they are us.

If you can picture a better vehicle for hauling your less-than-trained dog down to the Starbucks parking lot to go hit on every living person at the meet, I want to see it. This is the apex, the perfect vehicle for open carrying because it’s totally legal bro I swear.

We all want a barn find. We all want to open the door to an unused building and find a memory, that’s spent all these years in the dark just waiting to be found. But, real life bran finds don’t work like Forza, where unseen Brits cart your car off to be immaculately restored for free. Real life barn finds require work.

This Nash Metropolitan is the perfect example. This is a real-life barn find — what a car looks like after “30+ years” untouched by the world. It needs to be cleaned, repaired, restored, and loved. Imagine if you were locked in a shed for three decades. You’d probably look even worse.

I think I might be coming around on classic Mustangs. They’ve never been my favorite, owing to their status as Default Classic Performance Vehicle, but there’s still character in those lines. They’re good cars, Bront.

This Mustang is about as Mustang as a Mustang gets: Red, hardtop, manual, all the trimmings of a first-generation ‘Stang are on display except for one. Were you really going to use all eight of those cylinders, though?

At some point, you have to wonder how much difference there is between an LS-swapped 944 and a bone-stock 968. The 944 was lighter in its day, but adding four cylinders may have changed that somewhat — or, at least, gotten it to within spitting distance of a stripped-down 968. The highest performance 968s started to touch the LS6 for power, too.

Of course, the fun here is actually building the thing, but this seller seems to have had enough. The build isn’t quite complete, with some wiring necessary to actually make it fire up, but the seller wants to wash their hands of it. A deal? A money pit? Who can say?

This is not the Top Gun bike. I know it’s a red Kawasaki from the ‘80s, and I know it looks like the Top Gun bike, but it is not the Top Gun bike. That was a GPZ900, while this is a mere 750. That’s good news, because smaller engines tend to come with smaller price tags.

For the money, this bike seems truly immaculate. My own BMW cost about $6,000 to purchase — not far from this asking price — and was in far worse shape before I started tinkering. You may not be Maverick on this GPZ750, but you could be having a damn good time — especially with all the cash that’s leftover in your wallet.