|I'm changing my opinion to Dallara Stradale|
|You may look, sound and smell like a corporate insurance analyst, but you live for the track. Your flabby, pimply ass is only at home nestled into a low-slung, carbon fiber racing seat. You fall asleep to fantasies of unconventional aerodynamics. You whisper 'monocoque' to yourself while you're jacking off in the shower. And there's only one name you scream out as you dump your load: Ruston, Ruston, Ruston.|
|great pictures...but those shades...make my eyes bleed|
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