Ready For A Jaw-Dropper?

Me, with one of the cars that I killed

I grew up in what you could call a “car family,” if you wanted to make the understatement of the century. Throughout my childhood my father owned a series of Porsches, all of which he cleaned both before and after driving – to my significant consternation, because he insisted on involving me in these omg, very extensive cleaning sessions. The idea of introducing a single atom of food into his vehicle gave me heart palpitations. Touch the windows, or any sp...