OK, let me start off by saying this Xterra is only available for purchase by the manliest of men (or women). My friend, if it was possible for a vehicle to sprout chest hair and a five o'clock shadow, this Nissan would look like Tom Selleck. It is just that manly.
It was never intended to drive to the mall so you can pick up that adorable shirt at Abercrombie & Fitch that you had your eye on. It wasn't meant to transport you to yoga class or Linens & Things. No, that's what your Prius is for. If that's the kind of car you're looking for, then just do us all a favor and stop reading right now. I mean it. Just stop.
This car was engineered by 3rd degree ninja super-warriors in the highest mountains of Japan to serve the needs of the man that cheats death on a daily basis. They didn't even consider superfluous nancy boy amenities like navigation systems (real men don't get lost), heated leather seats (a real man doesn't let anything warm his butt), or On Star (real men don't even know what the hell On Star is).
No, this brute comes with the things us testosterone-fueled super action junkies need. It has a 265 HP engine to outrun the cops. It's got special blood/gore resistant upholstery. It even has a first-aid kit in the back. You know what the first aid kit has in it? A pint of whiskey, a stitch-your-own-wound kit and a hunk of leather to bite down on when you're operating on yourself. The Xterra also has an automatic transmission so if you're being chased by Libyan terrorists, you'll still be able to shoot your machine gun out the window and drive at the same time. It's saved my bacon more than once.
It has room for you and the four hotties you picked up on the way to the gym to blast your pecs and hammer your glutes. There's a tow hitch to pull your 50 caliber anti-Taliban, self cooling machine gun. I also just put in a new windshield to replace the one that got shot out by The Man.
My price on this bad boy is an incredibly low $12,900, but I'll entertain reasonable offers. And by reasonable, I mean don't walk up and tell me you'll give me $5,000 for it. That's liable to earn you a Burmese-roundhouse-sphincter-kick with a follow up three fingered eye-jab. Would it hurt? Hell yeah. Let's just say you won't be the prettiest guy at the Coldplay concert anymore.
There's only 69,000 miles on this four-wheeled hellcat from Planet Kickass. Trust me, it will outlive you and the offspring that will carry your name. It will live on as a monument to your machismo.
Now, go look in the mirror and tell me what you see. If it's a rugged, no holds barred, super brute he-man macho, Chuck Norris stunt double, then contact me. I might be out hang-gliding or BASE jumping or just chilling with my ladies, but I'll get back to you. And when I do, we'll talk about a price over a nice glass of Schmidt while we listen to Johnny Cash.
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1997 Jeep Wrangler - Hellcat - $5500 (Wilmington)
I should start by saying that if you are looking for a “Pajama party Barbie Jeep” you my friend, should keep looking. If you are looking for a short description of to the beast, I can offer you two words “MEAT & POTATOES”. This is the All American chariot of the free world.
I won rights to find this Jeep from Indiana Jones, Chuck Norris, and Bear Grylls in a poker game in Monte Carlo. I went all in with my life as collateral and won a map to the prized treasure on a bluff. The map lead me across all 7 continents until I found it’s hiding place, a giant mine shaft 5 miles north of Hell itself. Armed with a pick ax and six pack of beer I dug this jeep out of the darkness, it was buried under 70 tons of granite. When Satan tried to stop me, I dropped the hammer in my new beast, ran his red ass over, stole his girl, and floored it all the way back up. He was up he was no match for the fury under this hood.
I quickly realized at this point I wasn’t dealing with any ordinary Jeep. This thing was forged from a single block of all American Tungsten Steel. Real sturdy! From that day forward my life has never been the same.
So if you are looking for a rice burning hatch back, a solar powered liberal mobile, or even a Hyundai crossover keep on looking my friend, this thing is a piece of red white and blue Americana Machinery.
This baby’s pulse is pumping 4 liters of uncensored raw fuel through her straight-six nuclear power plant. And rest assured this is no metro feminine automatic… you command her to obey with your calloused hand planted firmly on the t bar Hurst shifter. And she will obey, the first time, every time. If you can’t handle your stick shift, or reach the clutch pedal, you better not fairy skip over here wanting to test drive. If you stall her out, you can count on getting hit in the face with a piece of re-bar and sent back to Chapel Hill where you came from.
If you’re a man who needs such worldly things as air conditioning, Move on, you do not possess the Jedi Force. Read no further. If you want to blow the sweat off your brow, you do it the old fashioned way: doors off, top down. “What if it rains?”…You winey bitch! I told you to stop reading… Any man who drives this beast doesn’t give a shit about rain. Not even skin melting acid rain, Cause he’s already dripping wet in blood, sweat, dip spit, and fish guts.
If you are looking for the kind of jeep that has to be pansy parked in the garage, so the “carpet doesn’t get wet and soggy” - then you should plant your Obama sticker on some Japanese piece of shit. Cause this thing has drain holes in the floor to let the blood drain out from buffalo you just killed with your bare hands. Because you are William Wallace from Braveheart and when you get home you can leave the “sissy sponge glove car wash kit” in the pink bucket it came in. Go ahead and spark up your 6000 psi heated pressure washer on the dually trailer in your man cave, cause you are Tim Gillespie and you can pressure wash your truck on the inside. She’s got vinyl saddles with a full roll cage in case that buffalo comes back to life while you’re doing 80 over some mountain pass or flooded river.
If you’re thinking about Mexican chrome bumpers for her, think again. These bumper bashers come hand forged from a blacksmith shop in Franklin County over a wood burnin fire, out of 4 inch well casing and railroad tracks, and then I welded 'em to the damn chassis. That way if you get deployed, you can piggy back this war wagon on a deuce and a half, and chain her down tight from the four corners so you don’t lose her when your convoy gets hit by a talibani roadside suicide bomber.
And forget about putting one of those “It’s a Jeep Thing…You wouldn’t understand” stickers on this machine 'cause when you’re spotted in this American Classic there will be no questions, no further explanation required, people will understand and get out of your way…..real quick.
If you think you’re ready to park this panty hauler on your tract of land. If you buy this jeep you better go get your old lady ready for some damn changes around your lair, cause this shit will be happening.
1. More chest hair.
2. You’re growing a beard.
3. Meat Only Diet.
4. T-Rex for a pet.
5. You’re taking a job at the lumber mill.
6. Your car carries five kegs.
7. Penis enlargement.
8. Catch more fish.
9. Wire bristled toothbrush.
10. Sex in the yard.
11. Sex in the garage.
12. All male offspring.
13. Chiseled jaw line.
14. Not giving a damn.
15. Flesh turning to steel.
16. Higher salary
17. Promotions.
18. Better looking wives.
19. Better looking mistresses.
20. More golfing
21. More killing stuff.
22. More dead animals in the KITCHEN freezer.
23. More tools in your garage.
24. Bigger TV
25. Wife takes out the trash
26. Four Wheel Drive
27. Wife brings trash can in from road.
28. Wife stops bitching about clothes on floor.
29. Wife stocks fridge with beer.
30. Chuck Norris.
31. John McCain
32. Steaks for dinner.
33. Winning the Lottery.
34. Bitches on the side.
35. Wrestling with bears.
36. Building shit out of stone.
37. Riding Lawn Mower.
38. Bon Fires in cul-de-sac.
39. Bar Fights.
40. Wife picks you up from Thee Gentlemen’s Club.
41. Craftsman Tools.
42. Jay Bisset.
43. Welding stuff.
44. Digging holes.
45. Huge Piece of meat.
Put your GPS back in your purse cause this thing has a compass bolted to the dash. Sounds good doesn’t it?
This jeep has carried me through 117,000 miles of battlefield twice as gruesome as the second half of the movie “300”….And just like a trusty steed this juggernaut has never left me stranded. If you think you’ve worn her out, you drag this bitch back to me in any condition, and Ill handle the rest.
But if you think you’re going to get to whip this mule you better pony up Fifty Five Hundred Dollars… American Cash. I’m not selling you this car unless you are clearly a pure blooded American Species, so don’t even think about it.
Americans Only.
No Checks.
No Euros
No Northerners.
No Red Hair.
No Low-Ballers.
No one from Chapel Hill.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
