#not my poor sister in law getting my paragraphs long rant about this and actually being so sweet about it

[justalittlebluetiefling]

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[otome-reviews]

SLBP Masamune Act 1 Route Review [SPOILERS]

“If I were to list all the things I love about you...I could no sooner name all the stars in the sky.”

I’ve been eager to go through Masamune’s route since downloading SLBP almost a year ago. Dude is consistently one of the sweetest warlords in his event stories. Also...have you seen his face?! Total eyepatch cutie <3

So how was his route, you ask? Well. Not what I expected, for starters. When MC first meets Masamune, he’s covered in blood after returning from a battle where he’s cut down literally all his enemies, and rumors abound (“They say that Lord Masamune is a cannibal...and there is a demon that lives in his right eye that makes him crave human blood”). He’s cold, and not very talkative. He’s ruthless. Oh, and he doesn’t like women! Bit of an awkward time to be MC, no?

But if you’ve been following any of Masamune’s ES’s, you’ll know he’s just a shy and misunderstood sweetheart under that scary, standoffish exterior. And MC doesn’t exactly learn this the usual way! Instead, girl accidentally stumbles into a role as Masamune’s cook after realizing most of poor M’s food gets poisoned by would-be-assassins. Then shortly afterwards, she gets promoted to become Masamune’s page. ...His male page, lmao. Which leads to fun moments, such as Masamune giving MC a pretty hairpin to give to MC’s “twin sister,” or MC having to lie about a scar after being invited to the onsen... 😂

The hidden gender thing is really well done in this story, imho. Poor Masamune has an understandable reason to be suspicious of women, after all (tl;dr his mom’s a mega-bitch who hates him for an utterly stupid reason). So with MC masquerading as a man, M is able to let his shields down around MC without pesky gender biases getting in the way. And yes, his reaction to MC’s inevitable gender reveal is as wonderfully angsty (but cute) as one can hope for. ^_^

In short, the romance trajectory is utterly delightful. One small thing I didn’t love: how the external plot is resolved. TL;DR towards the end of the route, Masamune’s bitch mom conspires with her evil brother to attempt a coup and have MC kidnapped and poisoned (as revenge for something Masamune is forced to do earlier in the story). Masamune’s reaction is amazingly wonderful, but what does a (temporarily) dying MC do before losing consciousness? Strong-arm Masamune into pardoning his mother for her awful crimes. Like...wtf?! Masamune’s mother is a treasonous criminal at this point, and MC just wants everyone to what, hold hands and sing Kumbaya?! Ugh.

I think MC has some weird misconceptions regarding M’s mom. She’s somehow convinced that Masamune really loves her, and that their relationship is worth salvaging. But I really didn’t get that sense from Masamune himself in this route, and a previous event story from Masamune’s POV also suggests that he isn’t quite as hung up on his mother as MC thinks. So, I don’t get it. M’s mom goes way wayyy beyond the evil mother-in-law trope and in a realistic setting she would’ve been exiled long ago!

That was a bit of a long rant, but if you haven’t read Masamune’s route yet, please don’t let that deter you at all!! I feel strongly about it, sure, but truth is, it’s such a small part of an otherwise incredible tale. Masamune has an amazing shy boy personality - you can’t help but want to give him a big hug. His retainers Kojuro and Shigezane are next level awesome. My favorite part of Masamune’s story is how MC helped him grow as a person. By the end of the route, Masamune’s been brought out of his shell (to some extent), and his retainers trust and like him way more. And none of that would’ve been possible without MC’s help! <3

At the end of the day, Masamune is a fan favorite for good reason. His adorable misunderstood personality really enhances the story. I nitpicked a lot several paragraphs ago, but the truth is, Masamune’s route is a fantastic read that has something for everybody. If you haven’t gone through it yet, I highly recommend you give it a whirl! :)

Choice quotes:

“Are you afraid? If you are...I won’t do anything.” - gotta love a guy who seeks consent!

“I swear...I will do everything in my power to give you the greatest happiness this world can offer.” 💕

Personality: 10/10. Masamune is a shy sweetheart who’s been forced by circumstance to sometimes be ruthless. And before MC he bears that burden all by himself, the poor guy. Quiet, emotionally hurt Masamune tugs at my heartstrings like none other. And happy, romantic Masamune has got to be the cutest thing ever!

Appearance: 10/10. He’s cute with or without the eyepatch!! <3

MC: 7/10. I really liked the way MC brought out the best in Masamune and supported him when others didn’t. But girl has got to stop being so naive about his evil mom!

Plot/Payoff: 9/10. Except for that one small thing, Masamune’s route is excellent. The romance trajectory (with a hidden gender reveal) was super well done - the balance between cute and drama was perfect. The external plot (barring the resolution) was also nicely set up. I really liked how the final conflict didn’t involve an actual battle/fighting!

Personal enjoyment: 9/10. I really enjoyed getting to know more about Masamune! If you like reading about misunderstood sweethearts, you will love his route. I am SO excited for Act 2!!

Masterlist

[allthegodstars]

Sapphire Flames Snippets

Little Snippet:

The Harris County Institute of Forensic Sciences occupied a nine-story building on Old Spanish Trail. Its blocky lines, rectangular windows, and orange brick practically screamed that it housed some sort of government agency. 

I maneuvered our Honda Element into the parking lot. It used to be our surveillance vehicle, but last year Grandma Frida decided to rebuild it from wheels up.  Now the Element sported a new engine, a reinforced suspension, and custom dampers for enhanced shock absorption. The windows were bulletproof, and the new glass had both the safety glazing and a polycarbonate layer on the inside, so if someone did shoot at us, the windows would crack but hold together. And most importantly, the Element was now equipped with B5 level armor, which meant it would stop most handguns and shotgun blasts.  It could have been armored enough to withstand a sniper shot; however, Grandma Frida reasoned that our best chance of survival was getting away fast, and armor was heavy, so she stopped at B5 and added a reinforced floor and run-flat tires. 

Unfortunately, even Grandma Frida had her limits, and steering was a bit sluggish.  I was used to it by now and I aimed for a parking spot in the middle row.

“So, what’s with you and Alessandro Sagredo?”  Runa asked.

The steering was sluggish, but the brakes worked perfectly.  I jerked forward, and my seat belt slammed me back.

“Nothing.”

“Aha.”  Runa pulled on her own seat belt.  “That’s why we screeched to a stop halfway into the parking space?”

“My foot slipped.”  I gently eased forward and brought the Element to a smooth stop.

Last night, after Bern carried Rutger into the guest bedroom and Runa settled in on inflatable mattress next to him, I went back to my office, rescued Alessandro’s picture from my desk drawer, and brought it upstairs to my bedroom. He looked so carefree, caught in a magic moment somewhere sunny and warm.  When I looked at the picture, a disquieting, unpleasant feeling squeezed my chest, not pain exactly, but a kind of discomfort. I stood in my bedroom and wished with everything I had that I was there, in the sun, with a backdrop of green mountains and Alessandro and I were going somewhere.  Together.

It was stupid, and childish, and it would never be.  I hid it all inside, put the picture on my nightstand, and went to bed.

“So, you’re just going to go with ‘nothing?’” Runa asked.

“That’s right.”

“Your sister said you met during your trials.”

Sistercide was not a word, but it would be after today. “Yes.”

“Yes what?  Is there a story behind that?”

No. He didn’t follow me on Instagram, and he didn’t take my breath away during the trials.  And he definitely didn’t show up under my window after trying to convince me to go for a drive.  

 “We met during the trials, and my sisters haven’t stopped trolling me about it for the last three years.  There is absolutely nothing between me and Alessandro Sagredo.”

Strictly speaking, there was 5,561 miles between our warehouse and the Sagredo estate near Venice, Italy.  A commercial flight with one stop could get me to Venice in thirteen hours. 

“Your cheeks are turning pink,” Runa said.  “Are you imagining there being nothing between you and Alessandro?”

***

On Rants, Well Deserved Nature Of:

As I’ve pointed out four times now, this entire incident has been recorded by security cameras. The footage will show that Ms. Etterson and I were attacked without provocation and we defended ourselves as is our right under Article 3 paragraph 1 through 4 of the House Protection Act.”

“Is that so?” Sgt. Munoz’s eyebrows crept up a quarter of an inch.

“You have no cause to detain either me or Runa Etterson.  We have cooperated, and we have given our statements.”

“Ms. Baylor.”  He frowned.  “You wouldn’t happen to have an older sister, would you?”

That was just too much. “When Nevada encountered you, she was under a great deal of stress trying to keep us alive and save Houston.  She didn’t have a chance to note that every time there was an incident requiring a law enforcement response, you mysteriously appeared on the scene.  But I did.”

He watched me, impassive.   I kept going.

“You are attached to the House Response Unit of Houston PD, tasked specifically with handling incidents involving Houses.  Every member of this unit is assigned a number of families, in which he becomes expert. So, you know perfectly well that I have an older sister and that she is currently out of the country.  You know the names of every person in our family, their birth dates, and their magic. You probably know the exact nature of my powers, despite the fact that my records are sealed.  You are here because my last name popped up in your system. So please don’t insult my intelligence.”

***

When English Language Is Just Not Enough:

Warning: hilariously odd bad language ahead. Poor Catalina.

Bug served as Rogan’s surveillance specialist. Magically altered, he processed visual information at an astonishing rate. If anybody could find [Redacted], Bug could. He was also fanatically loyal to Rogan.

The moment we involved Bug, Rogan would know every detail of what we asked and why. Then Nevada would know, and, considering the usual colorful way Bug made his reports, there was a strong possibility that she would freak out. Bug found the vast array of curses available to an average English speaker completely inadequate and used every opportunity to add his own, which often amounted to a random collection of expletives that left you befuddled. I could just imagine the way that report would go.

“Hey, so you’ll never believe this dick fart thing: they want me to find [Redacted]. Isn’t that just pork balls? The gnome molester apparently stabbed somebody. Whore dimwit shit brain dungarees!”

***

A Simple Menu:

Since it was my turn to cook breakfast anyway, I headed to the kitchen.  Cooking was basically my and Mom’s job.  When Nevada lived with us, she was too busy keeping us fed and clothed. Bern and Leon usually made meat, preferably, steak, and they served it charred on top and raw in the middle. Grandma Frida came from the generation when things weren’t cooked unless they were slightly burned, and my younger sister, who was actually a decent cook, when she had to be, couldn’t be trusted to stay in the kitchen for the duration of the cooking process.  She’d start something and then end up outside texting to her friends or in the media room laughing at some show, while we raced to save the meal. 

I decided on a simple menu. I put two packs of bacon into two baking pans and popped them in the oven, mixed the batter for the blueberry pancakes, and called Nevada while chopping mushrooms for the egg, mushroom, and cheese scramble.

***

Just You Wait:

My cell rang. An unlisted number. Oh good. Ten to one, somebody wanted to sell me super-special medical insurance or inform me that the IRS was about to arrest me unless I dropped everything and bought an armful of gift cards at Wal-Mart.

I answered it. “What is it?”

“You’re tracking me,” Alessandro said.

Runa’s eyes went big.

“I am not tracking you,” I told him. Technically, it wasn’t even a lie.

“You’re having me tracked. I understand that I’m irresistible. It’s a cross I bear. But do try to have some self-control, Catalina. I’m embarrassed for you.”

He… Argh. “As I recall, I never had a problem resisting you.”

“I thought we agreed that you would drop this.”

“I didn’t agree to anything.”

“Catalina, listen to me. This is serious, the people involved are dangerous, and your well-being is important to me.”

Since when? “Why don’t you tell me more about it? Maybe if I fully understand the danger, I’ll stay out of it.”

“No, you won’t. You have no sense.”

“I have all kinds of sense.”

“This is your last warning, Catalina.”

“Or what?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to find out.”

He hung up.

“I have all kinds of sense?” Runa quoted.

“I was too mad to think of a snappy comeback.��

I glared at the phone. Insufferable ass. When I got my hands on him, I would pry his mind open like a tin can.  And then I would make him do a little dance, record it, and play it for him on a loop after I drained my magic off. Irresistible. I’ll show you irresistible. Just you wait.

***

A Pithivier:

Steps sounded behind me. I turned. Runa caught up with us. “Matilda said you would be out here. That child is odd.”

More like unsettling, until you got to know her. “She’s an animal mage. They are unique. Did something bad happen?”

“You mean in addition to everything else?  No.”

We both watched Shadow sniffing at cracks in the asphalt.

 “Whatever is cooking in the kitchen smells amazing.  What are we having?”

“Lemon roasted chicken with rosemary baked potatoes, chive butter, kale and brussels sprout salad with tahini maple dressing, and an apple pithivier.”

Runa gave me a long look.

“I cook when I’m stressed out. It sounds more complicated than it is. In reality, it’s mostly season things, dump them in a baking pan, and stick them in the oven.”

“What’s a P.T.V.A.?”

“It’s a French pie-cake made with puff pastry.  The traditional version uses rum and almonds, but nobody likes rum, so I make mine with apples.”

***

For more check notes.

[christinaroseandrews]

Part 1

First off, I’m going to have to break this review up into pieces. I’ve got too much to rant about - complete with screen grabs - that tumblr will hate me. Not to mention, I want to show you the pain and then talk about some of the more salient problems with this book in depth. 

A little over a month and a half ago I said I was going to do something stupid. I was going to read my way through Faleena Hopkins’ book You Don’t Know Me. I got through the first half in a fairly decent clip - the writing was not good, the characters weren’t good, the plots were flying more than mosquitoes in summer... and then I got to the part where I just started continually shouting.

Laws of physics, laws of nature, laws of storytelling were all thrown aside as if they were garbage and then literal garbage was shoved into its place.

This was not a good book. This is not me ragging on her as an author. But I am not joking when I say I’ve read stuff by actual teenagers that was much, much better than this. And because I had to suffer through it, you have to suffer through my ranting.  Aren’t I nice?

The story takes a common trope “Secret Love Child” and combines it with another “The Missing Heir” and adds a dash of “Draco in Leather Pants” and “Poor Little Rich Boy” into the mix. By the way, if you can’t guess, TV Tropes is my wiki-walk rabbit hole and I have no regrets. The same cannot be said for this book.

Rue Calliwell (and I don’t care if I misspell the name - the author doesn’t; why should I?) is trying to make it in Los Angeles. She works the graveyard shift at a local grocery store while trying to catch her big break as a dancer. When Jack Stone, one of America’s Famous Billionaire Playboys, suddenly appears on her doorstep hopping mad, she wonders what died in his Wheaties and maybe if she can kiss away the frown he’s fixing her with. (Yep, she’s dreaming about some brother banging.) After dragging the story out for way too long, it’s finally revealed that Rue is the bastard daughter of Jack’s father and that he’s been embezzling from his company to stock up an inheritance of $50 million that has Rue’s name all over it. If she refuses the money, it goes to the KKK and she can’t allow that to happen. While her other brother, Sean, treats her to a Pretty Woman makeover, Jack wrangles their best friend Alec (and super hot lead singer of a band that’s never mentioned and isn't important to the plot in any way) to seduce his sister and then break her heart. Because that’s what all pissed off brothers do, dontcha know? 

So where do I even begin with this?

How about at the beginning... I have over 120 notes that I made on this as I read it. I’ll share some of them with you.

This is the opening paragraph to this book. There is so much wrong with this I just can’t even. From the random thought, to the run-on sentence (a Faleena Hopkins Trademark), to the weird-ass descriptors. Frowning Forehead? Are there lips on this forehead? Another face? Not to mention that there are missing en-dashes and it’s in a confusing tense. (Most of the book is in first person/present tense... because of the contraction, the sentence can be read as both present and past tense.)

The story introduces us to Rue, Jack, and Sean in pretty short order. Rue is supposed to be the heroine. The one we’re rooting for. Jack is the antagonist. One of the two wronged brothers and the one who thinks that Rue has an agenda. He is not a nice character. Then there’s Sean who is too good for this world and is written like every single stereotypical gay best friend but he’s got a “SECRET!” You have one guess what that is going to be.

If you can’t tell, this is in reference to Jack. But not only do we have a wild apostrophe, but we also have Exorcist levels of neck contortion. Not to mention a super awkward sentence.

This is also a Faleena Hopkins Trademark.

See...

I also mentioned that the story was in need of a good editor. Not just a proofreader, but an actual story doctor who could prune the 15 or so subplots down to something manageable while actually giving us a romance. Not a sex story shoved into a family drama. By the way, this story BARELY qualifies as a romance and I’m not totally convinced it is. The main characters end up together, but it is in no way satisfying and the focus of the story wasn’t on the relationship. More on that later.

But let’s go back to the editing.

Sorry about the italics not translating between Goodreads (where I can access my notes) and what’s in the actual book.  Trust me when I say that this woman hasn’t met an italic she didn’t love, except when she should use them.

As you can see, there are now enough errors for me to mark it down a star for poor proofreading.  And I’m not even a quarter of my way through this. The errors continued including something I find a death knell... the author spelling her main character’s name wrong. I’m not going to bother sharing more of her proofreading errors, unless they are really eye-roll enducing.

Another reason why this book is so bad is because the foreshadowing is heavy-handed as fuck. Like I’m going to hit you over a brick with it but I want you to act surprised when the reveal takes place. It’s that bad.

Here’s one of the most egregious examples.

We didn’t get the actual reveal of what was in the summary until 7% of the way into the book. Which is 21 pages and 5 Chapters into the book. Even then, the author played with it for a while, making it so that Rue didn’t believe the lawyer and thought this was some elaborate reality show prank. Yeah.

The author also wasn’t terribly good at hiding her foreshadowing.

This was in the character’s head. You don’t hide that kind of thing in your own head. It’s why most mystery writers don’t write from the POV of the killer, “The Strange Case of Roger Ackroyd” aside. It gives away the mystery. Coupled with the over abundance of POVs and this heavy handed handling of the character. I would have dropped this plot line entirely.... More on this later.  Trust me, what goes on with Sean is a rant in and of itself and is enough for me to rate this one star.

Now let’s get into the flashback portion and will portion of the plot.

This is where the first gif really starts showing through.

Part of me really wanted to send Hopkins the Wikipedia article on cancer. The other part of me wondered: if this is what she considers hyperbole, then what other horrors did I have in store?

I shouldn’t have asked.

This is brought up, but never actually addressed. Also I need to talk about how the father gave Rue the money. He gave it to her in a lump sum. $50 million. Not a trust. Not a foundation. Just here! Cash!

The author tries to address it later. But fails.

And that’s assuming that there aren’t locality taxes and again congrats you’re in a higher income bracket.

The biggest problem with this is that the father would know better. Or have the money offshore... not something that would be transferred into a U.S. checking account to make the IRS piddle their pants like an errant puppy. The father who claims to have loved the mother and the daughter, would make sure that the daughter had the money to keep her comfortable for the rest of her life and not able to spend it or give it away all in one go.

I used to work for a lawyer’s office who specialized in estate planning (and real estate) - in most cases, if you have more than $250,000 in assets that will survive your death, it’s recommended to have a trust because the federal government takes so much.

These tricks are one of the many ways that the rich stay rich.

As I mentioned before Rue gets a makeover, courtesy of Sean.

I’m thinking of the now deleted video of hers... But here’s the author.

So of course from here on out, I’m picturing Faleena as Rue... which did not help matters.

The reason why I say this is a nice lampshade is literally until she finds out that Jack and Sean are her brothers, she’s fantasizing about sleeping with them and kissing them.  Which again is “Ew!!!” for the reader and not funny and kinda crosses the pseudo-incest vibe that Amazon will allow and goes into Incest because again, we the reader know what the score is, it’s in the damned summary.

This is a huge problem in the book. The sainted mother who died of the mystical cancer is the sole woman who doesn’t get the slut/bitch/sexist treatment. Huge problem. Not even Jenna is immune (which happens later) and Jenna falls into another bad trope which I will get to later.

There’s more, but let me tell you, headhopping in the first person, present tense is tough. You’re deep into one character’s head. That takes talent.

Crappy talent. But talent.

This is where I’m going to stop my first post. We’ve just got the first mention of the love interest, Alec. And opened up another problem.

How is Alec Sean and Jack’s only friend? I say this as someone whose best friends growing up were identical twins. Most siblings, especially those that aren’t twins, won’t have the same bestie. They don’t want the same bestie. It’s a thing. They may have friends in common, but most best friends tend to be someone else. Mostly so they have someone they can rant to about the other.

If you think this is bad, wait until you meet Alec and the new siblings have a night on the town.

It’s going to be great....

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[driventoshift]

Gentlemen, start your engines...

Welcome to Driven to Shift!

What is Driven to Shift exactly?

Driven to Shift is meant to be a photojournalistic exercise performed by the creator of (I’ll be referring to it as DTS for short eventually) DTS, Adam, the one writing this. Now that’s out of the way, I can finally speak in first-person haha. This blog is about me, and not about me at the same time. Obviously, it will be written from my perspective and experiences of the (usually SoCal) car scene, but it’ll be all about the cars. Maybe one day I’ll do a background story on who I am if people actually want it. 

I’ve always been a fan of websites and photojournalism photography blogs surrounding car culture, and most people who know me know I rant and rave about hopefully becoming a Speedhunters photographer in the future. Like I said in the last paragraph, this is more of an exercise more than anything. I’ve always wanted to have a full-fledged and properly written out blog to call my own and I’m finally going to sit down and do it. I’m going to be using tumblr as my platform as it is the platform I’m the most familiar with, and I already know the limitations of what I can and can’t do on tumblr in terms of blogs and photography compared to my completely unknown knowledge of other platforms such as wordpress, etc. 

While this is a test of my (potential) journalism skills, this is also meant to be a time capsule of some sort, as this blog or whatever you want to call it, will show the progression of my builds, events I’ve attended, as well as hopefully many other moments filled with heartbreak and/or joy.  

This website is also meant to supplement my future YouTube endeavors and Instagram will have a shortform version of what I post here, and clips of what appears on YouTube. 

Okay, enough about that poor background attempt. Since this is a car blog, what do you drive???

What do I drive? Something more than you can afford, pal.

Haha, I’m just kidding. If you couldn’t tell, my main vehicle of attack is my 2002 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 in gorgeous Millennium Yellow. Fun fact, the introductory photo isn’t even actually my car but a photo I shot of another Millennium Yellow C5 Z06 at a track day I hung out that I was actually going to race in, until my Corvette broke down months before said track day sadly. 

Before you ask, I’ll get to my “mods” in a later story, but for the most part, my Corvette is 97% stock as I write this post. I want to enjoy this car thoroughly before I go absolutely bonkers even though I will stay somewhat conservative in modifying my car. The mods I have planned out will be tasteful and will turn this into a completely enjoyable machine.

Now, what else is in my stable of machinery? Well, I guess the next vehicle in my lineup would be my 1995 Acura Integra LS. Don’t get too excited though, it is sadly autotragic (yes, I know......I know). With my Corvette broken down and it being my only car (technically) I had a few weeks to find a car to use to get around. Luckily though, my (now) sister-in-law had this Integra and her family was just going to send it to the junkyard as she’s now in full-time wife mode as my brother serves in the U.S. Navy and therefore she can use his car. So, several hundred dollars later, I own a Honda with 105,000 miles (about 107k at the time of writing this), a salvage title, no manual transmission, no A/C, at least one previous ricer owner, and various creaks and rattles of the suspension that would put most horror movie houses to shame. After owning this car for a few months I can see why it was as cheap as it was and why my sister-in-law was so willing to practically throw it away. That’s okay though, other than it being a complete deathtrap with no fun factor thanks to the transmission, I’m having fun owning and working on this car. As much as I used to fit the stereotype of USDM car guy hating on imports, I’ve always liked the EG/EK Civics, Integras, RSXs, S2ks, NSXs, and of course any type R variant. I’m still thinking about how long I want to keep this car. 2018 will be an interesting year in my garage and driveway for sure. It’ll be a lot like the trade deadline season for professional sports, cutting things loose and adding others to the stable. Whether the “teggy”, as my friends and I affectionately call it, stays or not, is to be seen. If it wants to stay in my stable, it needs to get a manual swap at some point down the road. Who knows, we’ll see.

Speaking of imports, my other car is a 2008 BMW 528i. There’s not much to this car other than the fact that it is a perfect cruiser and I love taking it on roadtrips. Especially now that I have that Integra that scares me if I try to drive it farther than the five minute drive to work and back every day. Sadly not a M-sport, not a manual, and obviously not a E60 M5. That’s okay though, this car has been absolutely lovely to me and my family. And since I WILL legitimately die trying to take my Integra to canyon roads such as the famous GMR and my favorite, Angeles Crest Highway, the BMW gets to pick up the slack for canyon duties whenever my “banana” is broken. Surprisingly, I’ve taken it on more canyon roads than the Corvette. Its always funny seeing the faces of people I pass going the opposite way in the canyons staring at this seemingly asshole guy in a bland, leasemobile BMW and keeping pace with all my car friends with actual, working sports cars. 

Alright folks, I’m going to cut it short here. There’s so much to write about and I have to remember to pace myself as if I’m in the 24 hours of Le Mans or the Rolex 24 hrs of Daytona. Slow, steady and consistent will hopefully show me the results that I want.

I hope you all enjoy this show which I call my life revolving around cars. If you’re on tumblr reading this, please go ahead and hit that “FOLLOW” button in the top right corner. Stay tuned for future posts and copious amounts of car porn. 

If you’re reading this without a tumblr account, consider making one perhaps? There’s a lot of great content on this website including cars. But if you don’t want to follow that’s fine too. 

Feel free to follow my Instagram: @driventoshift. Whether there will be content on the other outlets to see is in question, but everything will get caught up shortly. 

Thanks for reading, now go out and drive to shift!