Cars!
As a good American, I love 'em, just like people in Italy and Germany and lots of other places do.
Here are my favorites...
DEATHMOBILE
It's a 1964 Lincoln Continental modified with a command turret, steam whistle and Emil Faber statue severed head hood ornament ("Eat Me" cake float cloaking device optional). Ideal for really stupid and futile gestures.
AH-64 APACHE HELICOPTER
Okay, it's not technically a car (although it does have wheels) but if you're going to ruin a homecoming parade, you might as well go all out.
YAMAHA 80cc DIRT BIKE
I know, this is also not a car. But let me tell you a little story...
7th grade was a bad year for me. Terrible grades and disciplinary issues. Rock bottom, in terms of my academic "career". The following year, we moved and I was in a different school district. At the start of the year, my parents presented me with a proposal: if I finished the year on the honor roll, they'd buy me a motorcycle. Specifically, this motorcycle, which is actually just a dirt bike. Well, I don't know if it was the change of environment or what, but I kicked ass in 8th grade. No grades lower than a B, no behavioral issues and I even went deep (finished sixth) in the county spelling bee, representing the Fairplain Junior High team. As the school year was winding down and it was apparent that I had the honor roll locked up, dad took me aside and said he thought a ten-speed bike would be a more appropriate reward and so that's what I would be receiving. A used ten speed, as it turned out. Clearly, they never had any intention of meeting their end of the bargain, based on an obvious lack of faith in my ability to meet mine.
Lessons learned? Let's just say I never approached that level of academic achievement in 9th, 10th, 11th or 12th grade and that I've carried a heightened level of mistrust ever since. Also, I still want that dirt bike.
1969 VW BEETLE
The second car I ever owned, my senior year in high school, was one of these bad boys. Mine wasn't in nearly this good condition. The red paint was faded dull, the original front fenders had been replaced with unpainted gray fiberglass that never got around to being painted and there was a hole in the floorboard so big that when my friend George dropped his glasses, they fell out on to the street and we ran over them. I think my dad was disappointed that I didn't devote all my leisure time to lovingly restoring it, but I've never been into working on cars. At one point, I did express a desire in painting it and he got very excited. He said, "Okay, first we'll need to sand it all down and then...", by which time, it already sounded like a lot more trouble than it would be worth and I lost interest. After all, why bother? The car was virtually indestructible and was more than adequate in meeting my needs of being a dependable source of freedom in traveling between points A, B, C and wherever else I wanted to go. It was all I've ever really needed out of any vehicle I've ever owned. Most problems could be fixed for pennies and/or with pliers and a screwdriver by people with virtually no mechanical acumen at all, which is why they stopped making them. One time, I left it work for a weekend and there was a bad winter storm, during which my mom's car's battery went dead three different times. When we went to get my car, we dug it out of the snow, hopped in, turned the key once, the engine turned over and we drove off. Mom was furious. I sold it when I left for the army. The new owner took the body off, turned it into a dune buggy and supposedly got at least another 10 years out of it.
THE ORIGINAL BATMOBILE
For pure fantasy fulfillment, it's gotta be this. Other versions of the Batmobile featured in the movies have been more practical, rugged and penis-shaped, but this is a sexy, sexy car.
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