Can anybody decipher this? We’re stumped. Even better, if you know the owner, get him to drop us a line.

Thanks Davide!

Arsehole.

How unbelievably awful do you have to be to even contemplate this sort of display? We don’t know much about this picture, but, obviously, it hails from the US of A and is rather depressing. Anybody care to decode his license plate? It must mean something, maybe we’re just missing the obvious.

Please take me to an asylum. I have just seen an unspeakable horror.

Imagine walking into work at your offices which were designed by an architect who tried to reinvent the colour blue so it would fit in with his “design language”.  You casually slide the cuff of your Ermenegildo Zegna suit up so you can check the time on your Baume Et Mercier timepiece (not watch). You are the head designer for Bentley and have just finished having breakfast with the organiser of The Americas Cup.

You buzz for some espresso which is brought in by your Swedish-Japanese PA and part-time lover.  The office is silent and the even glow from the drinks cabinet gives off a faint hue of blue from the Bombay Sapphire you’d left out after a design meeting with a man who makes the best holsters in Europe, and who will now be adding his expertise to leather finishes on Bentleys.  Your brushed aluminium Mac awakens as the feathered steps of Britt Mayota (for that his her name) whisper over the expensive carpet.  You open your e-mail:

"I converted that 17th Century stable into a darts/jacuzzi room."

Espresso gushes all over your personalised stationary and screen.  In the North East, unbeknownst to you Manchester City’s Stephen Ireland has applied his council estate dreamer “yeah-I-could-design-fuckin’-ace-trainers-me-yeah” design philosophy to his 3rd tier celebrity gameshow hostess/topless waitress/glamtart’s birthday present.  “My Jess deserves something different.  That’s different like, like her…like” he no doubt thought as he briefed some Peckham based “conversion/MMA betting shop no doubt using Barbie’s Corvette as a departure point.

I am absolutely agahast.  I love football with every corner of my soul, but they are a ridiculous bunch.  My man, Paul Scholes, (who lives a private life “up on the moors”) broke Stephen Ireland and his club Manchester (f*****g) City’s hearts with a last second goal.  No wonder they all go on holiday to Dubai, the most vacuous, soulless sham of a place since Xanadu.

I would honestly dock his wages and send him on some sort of ….ah fuck it. John Terry’s going to have a KFC-stained orgy with your girl all over that gift at some stage.

-Gavin Williams

The men who work at Bentley have degrees from the Sorbonne.

An unutterable horror stalked the chav's manor.

That'll be useful in Machester, you daft bint.

That colour's called Stripper Lips red.

"And that's called a gear knob". Titter. Stevey shows her how a car works. And she'd just figured out the tubes. Bless.

"I paid extra for that cosmic glitter effect, like." Hope he spelt her initials correctly.

Man City have won fuck all for 34 years.

Off to training in my trainers in my V8 trainer.

Images Courtesy of AutoTrader UK.

I think, Sir, you'll find the correct spelling just to the left of the VW badge.

We’ve all had those moments in the traffic. The [insert preferred insult here] in front of you is proudly sporting a shit numberplate and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. Well, to hell with that. Tell him/her that his/her numberplate sucks, we say.

Sometimes it’s less obvious than the case above. I once saw a very plain looking Mercedes C180 with the plate HAVNFUN-WP. I’m almost certain he wasn’t. Now you see with this chap above, he must have known he was spelling Scirocco incorrectly. I mean, the model name is actually on the car, just left of the VW badge. But, you can only put seven characters on a numberplate, so he just went for it anyway.

Excellent.

Thanks Davide.

"Rohrling" an Audi in a parking lot nowhere near Bedfordview.

Where I’m from “Röhrl” means fight. One might “rawl” in a parking lot or near a lake for instance, occasionally risking one’s life in the process.  Luckily Walter Rohrl wasn’t born in Benoni where he would have been expected to fight inside a cage at Carnival City to live up to his name. He did, however, risk his life in various other ways inside a roll cage for many years.

There’s a few reasons Walter Röhrl’s still alive.  His immense ability behind the wheel being one of the main ones. The fact that he started out as a driver for the Bishops Of Regelensburg  must have scored him a few championship points with God as well, enabling him to stay unusually alive during the Group B era where he drove the audacious Audi Quattro S1.  He famously said to a journo friend of ours that in the S1,” if you had to think, it was too late”.

He was also voted the best rally driver of all time in Italy which further confirms the Vatican’s involvement in his career.  They like their German World Champions fast, and they didn’t come much quicker than Walter Rohrl, who to this day can be found as an official test driver for Porsche around the Nordschliefe.

God. Yesterday.

Röhrl. Parking lot. Etc.

More G-force, vicar?  Witness the spectacle of Walter Röhrl:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyVHj3sHVHQ

Coming across a Pagani Zonda F Roadster in the metal, in South Africa, is a bit like finding a Panda in Uganda. Let’s just quickly get to grips with this thing: it’s on sale at Future Exotics, in the V&A Waterfront, for a cool R20 million. Depending on the exchange rate, obviously. This particular Zonda F is actually the ‘Cinqe’ model, simply meaning ‘five’ in Italian; only five will ever be produced. Ever. The body is made of carbon-titanium fibre, well, because carbon fibre is just so last millennium. The engine is sourced from AMG, and ensures the car reaches 100km/h in 3.4 seconds and doesn’t stop before it hits 350. Small wonder then that it’s fitted with a rosary. The owner’s manual recommends giving it a rub before you switch the traction control off. Just between your thumb and index finger, apparently.

Fascinating.

Anyway, while I was wandering around enjoying a chilled glass of fresh orange and ground cinnamon water, I found this, tucked away upstairs to the service desk. I like that. This is my kind of interior decorating.

Hit the jump for a gallery and more info.

I had to run before I could ask its particulars but suffice it to say it is very old, very special and very immaculate. My uncle tells me that back in his day these were used in one or other local racing series. That’s fantastic.

I couldn’t see the driver so who knows whether they’re actually human or not. Honestly, who’s going to drive around all day while some wizardry on the roof takes pictures every splitsecond, sending it back to the mothership? And they’re calling their new cellphone software Android. I think I’m going to start using Bing.

Anyway, here’s a list of the top ten most confusing accidents caught on google street view around the world, compiled by the superduper chaps at Jalopnik.com

That’s how we roll down here in die Kaap. Hansa Pilsener, baby.