Muscle cars are awesome. I don’t think any man can deny that—he’d be too ashamed.  But actually, owning a muscle car isn’t easy.  They’re old, which makes them prone to breaking down a lot. Muscle cars need constant maintenance, so if you don’t know a carburetor from a Salad Shooter, your ’69 Chevy might be spending more time in the shop than on the quarter-mile track.  Muscle cars also like to slurp down absurd amounts of gasoline, annihilating Earth’s atmosphere and your paycheck at a near equal rate.  Muscle cars are basically money pits, and your best bet for recouping your investment after purchasing one is to stock up on life insurance.  Safety was not a huge concern when these machines were engineered.
Thankfully, I can get the same thrills from my 5.5 in. Big Time Remote Control Muscle Car that I would from any Detroit classic, just on a smaller scale.  I was able to buy them with leftover beer money, so my humiliating credit score wasn’t a factor.  I can fire these 5 ½ in. honeys up and tear around the kitchen floor all day without burning out a clutch, too.  Since I don’t have to wash them every weekend, I’ve saved a fortune in quarters at the car wash.  Those are quarters I can use to play Pole Position down at the bowling alley.  I may never be a “real” Formula 1 racer or a “real” muscle car owner, but thanks to my Big Time Remote Control rides, I can have a blast pretending.