OverTTFinch

An exercise in slightly misplaced grandiose vanity. Take one over-the-top mobile compensator; pay a fortune to up the power to try and hide the fact it's a lumbering mass that's heavier than a small planet; then line various bits in a colour most likely to stand out from the black as possible. Et voila. OverFinch Range Rover à la look-at-how-muuch-cash-I-have. Seriously. I spend time at nights burning £20 notes in a hearth made out of £50 note papier maché. Well, a guy's got to have a hobby (and you know it'll be a guy).

One of the reasons I despair so much at motors such as these is simply because I love cars so much. Apart from the fact that these are anti-social behemoths long-estranged from their practical off-roading roots, which without complex electronics could barely bump up a kerb let-alone traverse a mountainous boggy landscape; never mind the argument that because they're high-up they offer a driving position that gives marvellous visibility that is rendered completely useless because the drivers generally have their heads lodged firmly in their respective arses; what really really annoys me is that you can spend more than £100,000 (yes, that really is six figures) on the the Overfinch when for the same amount you could get an Aston Martin DB9; Jaguar E-Type; Austin-Healey 3000; [the list continues for quite some time].

That is the truly monstrous side to this 'car'. Bleurgh.

(worth adding to that our little Mini gets from 0-60 faster, despite this 'thing' having 380-odd bhp from a 4.4 litre V8, and 0-100 MUCH faster).

p.s. busy BUSY day at work. And my right shoe has a leak.