Grand Prix

I can't wait to get into my American sports machine and drive home. Oh you haven't heard? I have a Pontiac Grand Prix, mother fucker. No more bullshit SUV soccer mom shit. Just pure American, pure sports machine for me.

My Grand Prix is awesome because its silver, and when I drive so fast I'm like 'oh yeah, look at me in the silver bullet go.' Its also awesome because when you see me drive you think America.

Driving a Grand Prix is like smoking a cigarette near a river. Can you imagine me laying there, with jeans on, smoking a cigarette near a fast moving river? That's how its like when I'm driving in my Grand Prix.

Also I have this image of me driving the Grand Prix directly into a body of water, smoking a cigarette with all the windows up. And I don't try to leave the Grand Prix as the car gets deeper in the water. I just sit there in the Grand Prix, smoking my cigarette like I'm unaware of my surrondings. Then I'm at the bottom of this pond and I see a fish swim by, and I blow smoke out of my mouth like real slow and deliberate before I drive out.

Every Grand Prix comes with a bag of grenades that you can throw at terrorists. That's a great feature of the GP. Go America! I flashed a grenade at my friend Ahmed when I showed him the car. He's from Egypt and his parents are scientists, so I'm pretty sure he's a terrorist. So I flashed a 'nade at him and smiled. It basically meant: "I'm friends with you, but I'm better friends with America."

Also, whenever I put in a CD, the Grand Prix CD player says 'CD TIME' on the display. Hell fuckin yeah, it's CD Time! Now, instead of my signature See Yaa!, I'm going to start saying "Prix Ya!" and then I'll just drive away.