A Secret American Love Affair

America. Ah, the land we love to hate and a place that we have so many stereotypical views on. First off, they are all too fat, have teeth that are far too perfect to be natural, the habit of interfering in countries they shouldn’t and being totally hopeless at designing cars.

Never mind bellies that have more folds of fat than a piece of origami, teeth so bright that they would dazzle a blind person and aircraft carriers loitering around the gulf like a group of angry teenagers, it’s those awful cars that we should be really complaining to Washington and the United Nations about.

For America appears to be the only nation on earth that can, and seems to on a rather regular basis, design such awful looking cars with growling 600 horse power V8 engines that do 7 miles to the gallon, only for them be out accelerated at the traffic lights by an asthmatic on a push bike. Still, I guess an ugly car that is about as aerodynamic as a brick towing a parachute is hardly going to help matters. Someone should really give them a lesson on British and Italian car designs.

But hang on there just a moment... call off the hounds as, by golly, haven’t those cheeky American car manufacturers done some extra homework and come up with something that is so desirable that I want to own one more than any other fancy European or Japanese car.

For, behold, the Chrysler 300C, is a car that oozes so much class and head turning road presence that the executives from the likes of BMW and Bentley should really be shaking in their over expensive leather boots as Chrysler have finally come up with a car to beat them at their own game.

I don’t even care that the 300C is totally unsuitable for the heavily fuel taxed UK with its 3.5 V6 engine that does (a suprisngly good) 25 miles to the gallon and takes up more space on the road than a small lorry, because it’s the best looking American car I’ve seen – ever. Period.

Unfortunately, unless Chrysler can come up with a new lease-lend agreement with the UK government, I’ll have to keep buying my weekly lotto ticket in the vain hope of being able to buy and run one. After all, like this Internet dating lark, you have to be in it to win it...