There are only so many times you can read a car test in a mainstream motoring
magazine without your head exploding. These things are so formulaic and predictable
that they must bore even the guys who write them. At least, this is what I used
to think, until I was clued in to the secret language of motoring journalists. I
hereby offer an exclusive insight into this language so that you too can enjoy magazines
as you used to before you got so cynical...
To whit:
"Blortfurst is new to the local automotive scene..."
The Blortfurst factory is located somewhere that you'd never want to go on a
junket, like Korea or China. So any free overseas travel will probably suck until
they start to get a good Karaoke scene going there. Consequently, the reviews will
also be bad until that happens.
"The standard engine is torquey off the line..."
It wouldn't rev past 4500 rpm if you put a brick on the accelerator and waited
until morning.
"...but the optional double-coated Tim-Tam version is a high revving delight..."
The bigger engine does rev, but doesn't make any power until 6000 rpm.
"...with power available higher in the range..."
Consequently, I stalled it at every intersection. Which is unimpressive for
an automatic.
"...but familiarity leads to acceptable progress in city traffic."
Toward the end of the journey, I found the handbrake and released it.
"The Blortfurst 400i tends toward understeer..."
I didn't even get near squealing the tyres, let alone get them sliding. The
Blortfurst marketing guy dropped the car off at the magazine office, and I drove
it to a pub where the aforesaid manufacturer was running an open tab.
"...with good feedback through the wheel..."
He was also buying lunch.
"...and a trace of lift-off oversteer to make it entertaining."
He let me call my beer buddies from the office and invite them over.
"The superb ergonomics of the Blortfurst 400i are a revelation..."
The marketing guy not only supplied beer, but had female accompaniment.
"...with tactile controls..."
The female accompaniment was unattached (and also tactile).
"...supremely legible dials..."
The female accompanyment was attractive.
"...supportive seats..."
She also had a great bum, so we sent her mintie-chewing across to the bar to
get all the drinks.
"...let down by rather poor build quality on some fixtures."
The snooty cow was rather unimpressed with the drooling journalists she was meant
to entertain. We made up for it by cracking dirty jokes about her while she was
getting the beer.
"The standard feature list of the Blortfurst 400i is a little thin..."
The marketing guy gave away pens, mugs and brochures in a crappy cloth bag with
a Blortfurst logo on it. Obviously new to this game.
"...but it can be optioned to a high level..."
However, he promised to send us a T-Shirt and leather jacket if we wrote a good
review. I'm sure I can get the little woman to pick the Blortfurst logo off the
jacket.
"...the optional satellite navigation system is a must."
He promised to send a good Japanese watch as well.
"This particular example exhibited a slight start hesitation..."
I was so pissed after lunch I couldn't remember where to stick the key. The
interior of the car started whirling after all that beer so I figured there was
a possibility that I might be too drunk to drive!
"...but this was a problem limited to the pre-production version."
I got out, stumbled backwards, leaned on the boot and vomited on the back wheel
while trying to get rid of the dizzy spells. The marketing guy didn't say a word.
He dusted me off, shoved me in a (non-Blortfurst) cab and paid for it.
"Up against the opposition, the Blortfurst looks competitive..."
When we do the comparison test against the BMW, we'd better remind the Blortfurst
marketing guy to drag along some more babes.
"...although with final pricing yet to be decided..."
We also better tell him that his advertising budget looks a little thin and there
aren't enough long term test cars to go around.
"...we think the existing market segment leader is in a strong position."
And while their girls are ugly, at least they come across...
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