Thirty-one thousand miles on a 2007 R63 and somehow it’s still the most absurd thing on this site. A car built to swallow a family and spit out a V8 scream, sold with no reserve like it’s a second-hand kettle. Canadian import, cylinder head overhaul in 2023, full history. So the seller spent money keeping the monster alive and now wants it gone for whatever some bloke in Leeds feels like typing. Brilliant.
Recalled a similar one? Can’t say I have one handy, so skip the nostalgia.
Eighty-seven years old, a band that’s been touring on its own nostalgia for decades, and this is apparently breaking news. Nobody’s surprised. The Lettermen have been “the last original member” territory for ages, a handful of ageing vocalists trudging through the same medley of old standards while we pretend each farewell is a shock. It was always going to end like this. Let’s not dress up the inevitable as a headline.
Thai prince buys a Jag at Stanford, then it sits in a garage for decades. Shocking, nobody saw that coming. Frankly, that’s the most predictable car story since the last one.
Clean 1991 911 Carrera 2 Targa, 73k miles, “recent work” and a dealer behind the listing. Here’s how it goes. The recent work is a list of parts they chose to replace, not a sign the car is sorted. Ask for the invoices, then ask why the clutch and the cooling bits all went at once.
Shocking. Who could have predicted a Corvette SUV wouldn’t work out.
Twenty thousand miles in 1999 and a “recently serviced” tag. Sure. Anyone who has bought a car at auction knows what sits under that sentence: a fresh oil change, a new air filter, and a pile of receipts that prove nothing about the rust in the sills or the clutch that’s been slipping since 2019. The clean title is the only thing they’re honest about.
Oh brilliant, a fixture for October 2026 with a kick-off time and nothing else. Where’s the league table, the venue, the source? Forgive me for not trusting a date that far off.
Why is a Saturday lunchtime kick-off still the price we pay for watching football?
Wait, one of 1,672 and it’s still got a price tag from a Texas dealer? Who’s paying for the “restoration” when the seller clearly isn’t.
Cut £33k off a car nobody can afford and call it news.
Two hundred seventy cars, ten grand a pop on top of the sticker, and they call it a celebration. Mopar turns ninety and the gift is an option package, which is basically a birthday card with a carburetor. Honestly, the real number that should ruin your day is that Dodge has been calling every Charger a “new” anniversary edition since the nineties.
Shocking. A patent lawsuit in tech. Who could have seen that coming.
Lightly driven? Сначала покажите одометр, а не слова продавца.
Twenty-five grand in work and still no receipts shown.
5,000 gone — who signs off the AI’s mistakes?
Here’s how it ends: a firmware note nobody reads, a class-action that settles for a discount code, and a “legacy vehicle” badge on your dashboard. They’ll call it a hardware limitation, not a broken promise. Five years of “coming next quarter” and the cheque clears either way. The upgrade won’t arrive. The invoice already did.
We’ll get hot air and higher bills.
A bloke on $32m a year has discovered inequality. How brave. In Britain we get the same sermon from every Davos-tanned executive while the tax gap yawns and my council can’t empty the bins. Near-100% inheritance tax? Funny. He’d pay more, he says. Wonderful. Prove it. Write the cheque, Scott. We’ll watch the offshore accounts twitch.
It’ll go for six figures to some guy who never drives it past the parking lot.