Review of the 2001 Pontiac Grand Am:

After driving all those rental Grand Ams, and seeing my friend's car, I know all too well that this brand new, shiny Grand Am I am test driving will soon be a faded butt-ugly car, with bad shocks, seats with springs disconnecting and a drive-train with enough slippage to qualify as a natural disaster in California.

I personally loathe and despise the Grand Am not just because it is the K Car of the Naughties, but because of those commericals where they give people the keys to one and let them drive it around for a week. These people are really excited about driving a Grand Am. A little too excited. Maybe they've never actually been in a car before. And it never says they get to keep the car. So they go to Atlantic City and say "Baby!" a lot. As in "A.C. baby!" and "Woo, baby!"

Stop saying "baby". You sound like an idiot. You are not Sammy Davis Junior. The swing craze has mercifully ended. Big Bad Voodoo Daddy are appearing tuesdays and saturdays at a Holiday Inn somewhere in middle America. The dream is over. Hang up your spats and sleep it off, baby.