Not My Whip

We got a black on black number from Archie “Army” Bunkerzzz. Lean, mean and clean are three words we could describe both whip and dawg. Peoples always talking about Black Dog Syndrome. How could you not like these two? Not My Whip would adopt these 2 into the permanent collection. They’re bookend containers of speed, control, and a pile of awesome stacked waist high.

Not sure how he sent this image through the email but we’re guessing that he’s pretty deft at using his paws to click on his mobile device. Amy Winehouse probably had it right. Back to Black. Don’t text and drive the Galaxie 500, though!

Did you want to go ballin’ in your rental Hummer for the big game? That’s cool because Not My Whip knows where to park the hooride for the final game of the series. It’s at “Triple P” spot, my nizzle. What you don’t know? It’s at the Parkwell Plaza Parkade which is close to the venue and super safe.

And this my friends is why God is allowing multi-sport lockouts. With fans like these who needs terrorists? The lockouts may happen but Not My Whip will prevail in this dark time of exploding engine blocks and sport entertainment.

All we can say is that, “THIS IS FIRE, DAWGS!!!”

What up, playas. Not My Whip went international by checking out Canada and their Not My Whip status. Let’s just say, those Canadians know how to throw a party even if their team lost. The last time we saw a riot was when a box of doughnuts flipped and fell on the floor in the Not My Whip office kitchenette. We just ended up going to the mall and drinking strawberry coolers near the ice-rink for the rest of the day.

Stereotypically we know Canadians are really nice, kind and reserved. Good people. Some would say boring. Not My Whip thinks that they squish all that pain they endure and let it explode when the time is right. We applaud those who are able to see clearly and hit that buffalo stance when BMW’s are blazing next to you. That my friends, isn’t boring.

Let it rain fire and brimstone in and they can’t be bothered to loot that LCD TV.  There are plenty of cars and these non-owners are steadfast and at the ready. That’s right, sucka!

Monday morning. Not My Whip just got too pre-occupied listening to many Soulja Boy’s various “Crank Dat” remixed ringtones to do a web post. We all have our guilty pleasures, right?

Speaking of Soulja Boy, we just found this baby hidden in the stacks. We got Plain Blum Shady with Baby Madam Strike Force doing a Superman. It’s like that part where Christopher Reeve is flying through the air with Lois Lane and all that music swells up. You know the song, “Can you read my mind?” by the world-famous double-famed soundtrack composer, John Williams. Think Superman can read your mind? Naw, dawg. Not My Whip is reading the million mindzzz right now. Everybody’s thinking, “That’s the cutest asian baby momma that’s passed out that man’s shoulder. Maybe she got too close to the coccaine filled Delorean.” That’s what the entire world wide web is thinking. Seriously. I got the analytics to back that up.

Summer seems like months away, but here’s a sampling of summer’s past. Take a look at the nicest, cleanest vintage 1970s volkswagon wagons ever seen with my four eyes. Beautiful color scheme of robin’s egg blue a white roof. It reminds me of the summers of my youth in the hot sun. Lens flares and all.

Perfect white interior. The car was tastefully lowered with some nice stock wheels to complete the look. So crispy, straight and clean. And you can see the nice volkswagon emblem on the nose… wait. what?! you can’t even see the car!  It’s covered by one of the biggest babies in the world.

Oh well, we’ll catch this Moby Dick again when the good weather comes out.

And we’re back! Notmywhip just had the tires rotated on the foreign import econo-car. That’s code for hiding in the bear den for the tail-end of winter to finish. Word up.

Spring just started for the year and Punxsutawney Phil (translation: the ground hog) just saw three hustlers when he popped up today to greet the early spring.

Hustler One is the one and only Q-Burt from China’s satellite office of Notmywhip, housed in a Shaolin temple. Q-Burt rarely talks but when he does he says some crazy non-non sequitur stuff that just makes your brain sizzle.

Hustler Two is E-Brake aka Sport Cap. You can’t even make eye contact with the guy because he’ll see through you like a glass window and melt your soul. Therefore, he makes it easy for you by never looking directly at your face.

Hustler Three is the Charger. It looks bone stock and it’s still better than your last 3 cars combined.

Maybe your were expecting 3 burnouts instead of hustlers, but the only burnout that you’ll see is the one on your grave.

Straight out of ‘bama rolls Dirty Velvet (a.k.a. Magic Mista Sinasta). He transverses the United States living the dream bringing triple beams of graphic havoc to your retina cones and rods.

During those criss-cross trips through amber waves of grain he saw this saffron ride that would make it big in American Graffiti. It looks like the General Lee (think Dodge Charger with Duke boys, not real Confederate general) going back into time. Modified by Bonnie and Clyde who clearly have an eye for Art Deco.

Then, Dirty Velvet in his Doc Brown costume drives it back to the Now Future where he is now, double currently.

Nasty Andrew Dust is laying the smack down on the dream dozer with his baby cohort, Mr. Toby aka Trigga Vigilante.

This dozer is squashing every little doubt in your heart that the job you’re going for right now in this pathetic, sagging economy will slip through hands of the non-deserving trust-fund kid and land squarely in your proverbial clutches. And then you can get that big house, beautiful wife and more importantly banging whip.

But before that happens you are going to continue to jump in front of other peoples’ cars and capture some mind-blowing images for Notmywhip. BTW, yellow is the color of caution and NotMyWhip respects all those babies out there with itchy trigger fingers.

The winter equinox has passed and we look forward to the days getting longer. But will it be longer than this metal missile on wheels? Jelly-Belly Mick Laser can’t even come close with his wingspan compared to the Airstream 270. The owner had to park it in the shade so it wouldn’t blind people with it’s polished slip-stream metal skin. Don’t want to even get that in the sun. Even JB Mick has to wear some Kool-Moe Dee numbers to keep from losing his eyesight in the cool shade.

Perhaps it’s to prevent the fear of death. Sort of like standing in a firing squad. Nobody wants to get run over standing next to a fog line on a fast highway. Unless you know you’re going to get up on Notmywhip. That’s how Jelly-BM gets to work.

Do you remember watching the part in Excalibur where the King Arthur’s dad, Uther basically has a deceitful, NSFW union with an enemy king’s wife. Notmywhip’s webnizzlemaster does, during freshman high school English class sitting in a portable classroom (a.k.a double-wide trailer).

Uther (in a magical disguise) knocks them bootz with all his armor on with the enemy queen. And she’s flopping around with the busomssszzz out. English teacher woman tries to hides the lusty scene by fast-forwarding through. But in her toploader VCR ineptitude she ends up just doing a fast scan of the scene.

So, a class full of high-school freshmen eager to experience the mythos of Middle-Earth-Round Table Pizza end up seeing a guy in full shiny armor go at it with lady in a most horrific, sped-up rabbit-way, while viewed in all of it’s 80s glory. End result, this guy sires King Arthur.

Fast-forward to the scene where all these dudes are trying to pull out Excalibur from the stone. We got this guy. Can’t do it. This other guy. Can’t do it, either. Patrick Stewart shows up. Can’t do it. Come on, Captain Picard can’t do it? Then this Arthur guy shows up and pulls out the magical sword. It was like these 2 were made for each other.

Perhaps like how DJ Curti P-Love was made to be with the mythical ride, Excalibur on Notmywhip. The mean streets of New York’s Meatpacking district cannot deny the brilliance of these big playas. Stars alignin’, steady grindin’, money contract signin’.

Sturdy Amazzzzzzon Swedish steel for sale. Its name fashioned from Greek mythology. Who knew that this particular one would last so long. Volvo tried to build it tough like Wonder Woman. Long enough to make it onto Notmywhip. Hey look, invisible jet in the background.

There is talk about how the electric car is the savior of the automotive industry and in turn the environment, but there are dubious claims that the actual electric battery for the car plus shipping the parts are more harmful to the environment than producing a large SUV? Notmywhip isn’t a scientist on those things, but is a true professor of recycling old cars into banging rides.

Take a look at this Cutlass. Aged to perfection and repurposed into a head turner. And what’s this?  We got a little seed lampin’ next to it barely taller than the wheelzzzzz. But what’s doper than that is he has a matching car that he pulled from his pocket. WHAT?!?!

Well, call me Ishmael. That’s right, you just saw Destiny, personified by a hot Fate deity high-five Father Time driving on a black hole shaped like a low-low. Notmywhip has found you, Moby-Dick Cutlass and I’ve got my little mate holding a scale model close to his soul.

Notmywhip is cold lampin’ in the house right now. Basically, turned off the heat to save some dough to buy some AC Schnitzer Type III Racing Wheel Spinner knockoffs to mount on the cream-puff Corolla. It’s cold up in herrrrre, but Notmywhip has a little bit of summer on tap.

Sure, you’re tired, sad, depressed, because of the Northern hemisphere weather change and you won’t see the light of day for 6 months and the home team is cursed and won’t ever win a championship and you don’t care about grammar, spelling and run-on sentences.  But this little cutie cone will cheer you up. Period.

Check out the ice-cone wielding little shorty next to the Corvette. Dare I ask who is setting the pace again? LW3. That’s who. So, you guys better step up your game by tilting the earth with your submissions and spin it backwards to go back in time like Superman, (The Motion Picture)* to make it hot again.

*Superman doesn’t really tilt the earth in the movie, but he probably could do it out of love for Margot Kidder’s Lois.

Sorry, Notmywhip has been trying to get the proverbial house in order for Thanksgiving. Cleaning mind gutters, raking up leaves made out of meth needles, and putting up the cheap gold jewelry on Craigslist. Therefore, we are out of circulation for a bit.  Sort of like hanging out at the group home.

Speaking of group home… just got this awesome car collage from a fan, C-Block Curtis Rage. Notmywhip knows it’s blowing up culture if people are swarming the site. I just checked the analytics on this bad boy and I get usually 2-3 average per week.  Two or three hits. Usually, those 2 hits are me checking out the site, but whatever.  Laying down railroad tracks of culture by setting up cornerstones of banging whips and accessorize them with little seeds. Let the haters hate, Notmywhip has to be.