2001 Buick Regal GS vs 2002 Buick Regal GS
My 01 Regal GS vs my brothers 2002 Regal GS. His black GS has Exhaust, smaller pulley, CAI, and tune by
McCord. Mine has gone a best of 14.56 @ 92 and his runs 13.90s. These
aren't the fastest cars but they're fun daily drivers. This was done on
closed roads too...
Regular Car Reviews: 1986 Buick Grand National
Drive a Grand National for long enough, and you'll find yourself in a fight
outside a pub with a mustache in a 77 Chevette. But you'll win every time,
because you have the righteousness of choice on your side. Maybe your left
hook isn't as strong, and your haymaker isn't as wild, but dammit, you have
taste. And that counts for something. An ass-kicking something. You bang
like a champ because you don't know when the next time will be. And that
kind of dedication means you'll never be un-bung again.
Your Summit Girl will hate that she let you go, because she'll see you in
a Grand National, and she'll say, “You know what? He's driving automatic,
but that's a Man for All Seasons right there.” And she'll know, because
she's dating a Lion In Winter. A feckless, limp-dicked, do-nothing shell of
a man who doesn't know what to do with his free time in the NFL off season.
-It's everything right and good, and a little bit off, with the world. It's
the bitter taste of a smoker's nicotine kiss, and the welcoming, cushiony
pocket of her vagina. You're home now. You're slopping around in the
primordial ooze. The Grand National loosens the pickle jar of human
goodness. It takes you back to a past that's irretrievably but eternally
present, just on the edges of your consciousness, like all good things.
Capable of being called up on a drunken night. Because sometimes, you just
get drunk, and sometimes you start thinking about where you come from, and
sometimes you call your mom just to hear her voice. And when she asks why
you called, you just say, “I have a missed call from you. But maybe it's
old. My phone doesn't say.” You both know it's bull, but you both let it
go, because you're a grown man, and you can't just say, “I needed to hear
you, mom. I was in a Grand National today, and I can see it all. Stretched
out in front of me like it happened yesterday. Playing Turtles In Time and
drinking Juicy Juice out of a triangle-shaped hole you made with a
can-opener handle.” So you bite your lower lip and put on a brave face.
The Grand National is automatic, but no one's emotions are that simple.