And they couldn’t drive worth a damn. Name one hippie champion race car driver. None. Not one. They could never figure out what the clutch was for. It was those filthy, stinking hippies that did away with the “Four On The Floor” and muscle cars. They can all rot in he** with their rusty Volkswagens with burned up clutches. Jackasses thought a 4-4-2 was a telephone number.
Thanks for that cutting edge insight.
Say howdy to Boss Hog.
Are you sure your not confusing hippies with Asians? (Sorry my Asian friends, I couldn’t resist. ;-))