1993 Mazda Miata

Listen, motherfuckers. I'm about to make you fucking respect a goddamn Mazda Miata. In fact, if you are one of the 1.7 people who read this and you still think that the Miata is a car for Gay Hairstylists after reading this, then there is no hope for you in this world. You should unsubscribe immediately and go back to searching Youtube for As I Lay Dying videos, because you will never get it.

You are an insignificant pole-torquing cum dumpster. Tomorrow morning, you will probably unlock the doors to your car and slide into its comfy interior, not knowing that that car is actually your hearse because compared to a fucking Mazda Miata, every car you own from now until the day you keel over and die will be the exact same goddamn platform-sharing piece of shit that Hyundai ever bolted four wheels to. I should rape you.

I'm now going to outline why I think the Mazda Miata is the single greatest fucking sports car of all fucking time (particularly the NA generation, with the cute, pop-up headlights) and you're going to listen because you're sitting in a fucking cubicle and your dad hates you. Hallelujah, faggot.

More actual fucking race car drivers have gotten their start in a Mazda Miata than in any other car, and this is true across every goddamn hemisphere. No matter what kind of shitty god you worship, it's totally cool to drive a Mazda Miata. It is easily the most raced nameplate in the world, along with the best selling sports car of all time. We're talking about an unmatched pedigree in the world of motorsports, and in being completely misunderstood by a generation of completely worthless fucking morons.

Twenty years ago, Mazda introduced an extremely lightweight two-seat sports car with rear wheel drive, a bulletproof 5-speed manual transmission, aluminum four cylinder engine (which has a reputation of it's own for being nearly indestructible and remarkably fuel efficient), world class and even record breaking suspension from the factory, exceptional steering, 50/50 weight distribution, and the chance to finally grow some fucking balls, you dickless weakling. No matter what kind of inbred twit you are, if you can drive a manual transmission, there's a good chance you can drive and have fun in this car. Twenty years later, the formula is unchanged, a lot like your dad's intimate feelings towards other men. It remains one of the only bare bones, take-it-to-the-track cars you can buy these days, unless your name is Jay Leno and you spend a majority of your time waxing your Ford GT with your own watery sperm. Praise fucking Allah.

Go to any grassroots racing event, and it will teem with little red Mazdas, so much like little red fire ants who are bent on consuming and eventually engulfing your naturally curious and only child. They're not there because they're the fastest thing on the track, but rather because they're the most fun and engaging to drive. The Miata is one of the only true sports cars still made today, so don't throw out some bullshit about the Ford Mustang to me because if you do, I will murder you with an ice pick and a woodchipper that I rented from goddamn Hertz Equipment Rental. The Miata doesn't come burdened with bells and whistles, creature comforts, heated dildo seats, a denture cleaning system, or anything else you'd find in a car with similar performance. In some cases, you fucking cumtart, there simply are no other cars with similar performance. This little car holds several records pertaining to handling (yes, such a thing can be measured scientifically with great accuracy you 2012 obsessing jackal) and will regularly outgun quarter-million-dollar exotics in the slalom test, the skidpad test, braking tests, and not being a huge pussy tests. All from a car that can be had for $5,000 on the high end from a shady Clinton Highway used car dealership down next to that creepy strip joint.

Apparently, I'm not the only fucking Einstein who thinks this way. The Miata has won a total of 178 global automotive awards, and is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as being the most popular sports car ever fucking built. If you can't see why this car is awesome by now, you are fucking retarded.

Commit suicide now, because you will never, ever be good enough. No matter what you do in this world during your time here, it will never hold a fucking candle to what a guy named Tom Matano started almost 30 years ago. Next time you see someone walking through a parking lot back to their Miata, ask them if you can help them with their bags, or maybe polish their cock for them, because they are superior to you.