Man Points Rule: You Must Understand the Close Link Between Cars and Male Potency

 

Dear Mr. Man Points, 

Hi, my name is Robert and I need a Lexus. I don’t need one because of the many impressive and scintillating Lexus ads I’ve seen on TV, however convincing they may be, but on first-hand knowledge. My brother Adam, who resides in Los Angeles, owns a Lexus IS 350 and one hot afternoon after finishing our lunch at the Misto Café, sensing my palpable yearning to drive his car, perhaps evinced by my puppy-eyed stare of longing at the glimmering car key he held in his hand, Adam invited me to sit behind the steering wheel. Here we were, four of my relatives and I, our bellies bursting with gorgonzola tortellini, umpteen loaves of buttered French bread, and tiramisu, sitting inside the Lexus at a steep incline on Crenshaw Blvd. From a dead stop I decided to see how Adam’s Lexus could move up the hill burdened with a thousand pounds of human flesh and with the AC on full-blast and I am here to tell you that his charcoal gray Lexus IS 350 with the silver chrome cross-guard automatic shifter didn’t flinch at the daunting task I had given it. It accelerated up the hill with a brassy-balled insouciance that made me feel like I was riding a magic carpet. The car did not grunt, whine, or complain. To the contrary, it seemed to relish in the opportunity to flex its very capable muscles. I had the feeling that, like the Border collie whose instincts compel him to herd sheep, the Lexus was doing precisely the very thing it was designed to be doing and, as such, was fulfilling its purpose in life. The ergonomics of course were flawless. The seat’s lumbar support so exquisite that my chronic sciatica pains were immediately assuaged. The steering, contrary to snobbish BMW-owners who snub the Lexus as being “too soft,” was crisp, precise, and empowering.

But to praise the Lexus’ perfect engineering is to dwell on the mundane and the predictable. There were deeper, more important things taking place, namely, I was enjoying the Lexus experience. Within seconds of pressing the gas pedal, a warm oceanic sensation, not unlike arousal, stirred within me. I don’t know how to explain it but for lack of a better word I was overcome by a Lexusation, a delicious tingle that surged up my spine, my neck, and, finally, my brain, filling me with an ecstatic explosion of serotonin neurotransmitters so that, within seconds, I felt I had become one with the car. A missing part of myself had been found. A restlessness that nagged me all my life had ceased as I ascended toward a still diamond-twinkling ocean plane and luxuriated in the Lexus’ Bose eight-speaker system. Like Orpheus, the Lexus had tamed the savage beast.  

The effects that the Lexus had on me were noticed by others as well. Most importantly, my brother Adam, who trailed behind us with other relatives in a rental car, said that I looked to be a “perfect fit” for the Lexus and that the IS 350 complemented me, not in the frivolous sense of the word, but on a deeper, more existential level. In other words, my brother revealed that while seeing me drive the car he had an almost mystical vision of me having reached a state of self-actualization. Inside the cockpit, I had an expression, both focused and relaxed, which he had never seen before and there was a brief, startling moment when he said he did not entirely recognize me.  What I’m trying to say is that my being had changed. There was now a wholeness, a spiritual transcendence, and yes, a masculine fulfillment that I had never experienced before.

Has this Lexus really turned me into a true man or have I gone bonkers?

Robert,

No, you're not mad in the slightest. The feelings you've described are real. Buy yourself a Lexus IS 350 just as soon as possible, even if it means borrowing from your retirement and taking out a second mortgage. Your manliness will thank you for it. 

Comments

[Angelo]

Back in the 1980s, while in my early 20's, my friend David bought a used Porsche 924. It was in pretty nice condition---not a 911, not a 928, but the "Poor Man's Porsche" 924. Still, women were drawn to that car. One night, we met girls at a bar, "The Crackerbox Palace." They agreed to follow us back to a house party. He and I were in his car and he was driving well below the speed limit. I asked him, "Why are you going so slow?" and his response? "I want them to be able to read Porsche on the back of the car." Unfortunately for David, and for me---and for the Porsche---the imbeciles at Jiffy Lube changed his oil and only put 5 quarts in when the capacity was closer to 12 quarts. That weekend, as David and I were driving back from Scranton, Pennsylvania to Wilkes-Barre, the engine siezed. The tow truck driver smelled the dipstick and said "It's burned up boys."

[kr]

jeff, this is slightly off topic of man points, but check out this guy wrecking this other guy in this bike race, it's about midway:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aoEd0w-BmfI

no man points for that

[Jeffrey McMahon]

The coward who grabbed the guy's shirt loses Man Points. He should be arrested.