Some crazy stuff happens in this town, believe you me. One of the doozies of late is that the Porsche SUV has become so ubiquitous that Angelinos are forced to trick if only to ensure they can identify their vehicle at Cheesecake Factory valet.
It started out mild:
Weird, metallic colors. Fine, no problem. I just hope you own a popsicle factory.
Then, it was the faux carbon fiber hood:
Yes, you are a big, big man with an enormous penis and I’m sure you drag race this on the weekends– while I’m riding my unicorn through through fields of 4 leaf clovers with Jim Morrison. Okey dokey.
And then they start upping the ante. The trim, the custom candy apple red, I smell weirdness on the horizon.
Get ready, cuz here it comes.
And independently, the elements aren’t bad: matte grey (kinda cool), orange trim (5 points for imagination), UFC sticker (sure). But put ‘em all together and waddya get? One silly valley boy whose parents are now wishing they’d bought him an X3, like everyone else in Calabasas.
But he’s not alone. There are plenty of Cayenne’s just dying to stand out from the crowd of other Cayennes in my poor, recession-ridden city. Boo hoo.