Coincidently, we just got done reading a screed from Jezzo's, The World According to Clarkson: And Another Thing in which the great Jeremy admits that he thinks of little else since turning 40 save death. Obviously, he doesn't want to die with a tube up his nose. No, Clarkson thinks being blasted into space aboard one of Branson's Virgin rockets might be the ticket. Could it be that the 1966 NASCAR Rookie of the Year has been reading the Sunday Times? If Hylton is not in fact familiar with "that fat yob from Top Gear" he would still surely agree with Clarkson that "middle-aged men buy Porsches because they want to die at 180mph." As Hylton puts it, "I am doing this for seniors to show that at 70 years old, you don't have to go hunting for an old-folks home. You can go race for a little bit." Bravo we say. Go for it, absolutely. Best of luck, old chum. Though we, existing in the form of Jalopnik like we do, prefer Clarkson's conclusion on how he wants to go out. "I want to be drunk. And happy. And then I want to explode."

72-year-old plans comeback at Daytona 500 []

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