When I told my boyfriend, with whom I had owned two up-powered six-cylinder 1970s Volvos in our 20s during the ‘90s, he looked suspicious. “Volvo made hot rods?” he asked. Indeed they did. And I drove all of them.

What happened when I filled a DIESEL Escalade with premium unleaded, and drove it 250 miles into West Virginia.

It’s like the AirBnB of cars, if every AirBnB was an interior courtyard room at the Radisson.

For me, these cars don’t bring joy. And joy is one of the key metrics for whether or not I like, or love, a car.

To some, luxury is about time, but those fools don’t know that time is a liquid, and if that liquid is gin, you can have as much time as you want.

That’s what I learned from driving this 1979 Mercedes-Benz 450 SEL with 237,000 miles on the clock.

Anything that perverts the stated mission of the automobile — independence, representation, aspiration, utility — Pippa has underscored in her fiendishly hilarious and irreverent body of artwork.

And I’m obsessed with them.

It’s the ideal Electric Vehicle for people who love quirky cars.

“Celebrating your difference as an EV is very important to some people as they project their choices out to the world,” Snyder said. “These days you have to scream.”