For some strange reason, the Extreme Auto Fest smelled a lot like lumpia and pancit. Perhaps it was the large Filipino population that attended or maybe it was the leftover breakfast I snuck in. At any rate, the show was a hit despite the fact that the import models weren't all over us as Russell and I expected. I figure since we're the new guys they don't recognize us yet. Some even asked if we were Jonny and Ricky-of course, we lied and they immediately tore off our clothes, bathed us in front of the crowd, and then drank our bath water (Where was I?-RB). That's when I realized that being a Super Street editor has more perks than just traveling across the world and brushing Jonny's hair (the brush is selling for $100 on eBay as you read this).
The Extreme Auto Fest represented the import culture to its fullest, but there were some things that just didn't go right. They had a DJ contest that everyone seemed to ignore-apparently the crowd thought turntablism is a humanities course at UC San Diego. They had mini-bike races that everyone also ignored-I guess the whole "mini" fad ends with Vern Troyer. They had a BMX exhibition that was very much ignored-wrong place, guys, the X-Games are somewhere else. They had some NASCAR cars that I personally ignored-left-turn racing isn't much of a sport. They had beautiful women who ignored us (but I covered that one already). At least there were a lot of people there who liked cars, and that's all that matters.
Faster FactsOwner Joseph SantomineRide '95 Honda Prelude
Roel thinks the army will pay more than Super Street, and they do.
"I love you, Jonny."
"A little closer, please."
A big thank you to the inventor of low-rise jeans.
Russell is still trying to figure out the whole gender thing. (I saw Eden in there.-RB)
"Are you sure you work at Super Street?"