Now, I know this is a stark departure from the normal stuff that I post about here, but my love of cars, especially odd ones runs the gamut. This is my daily, when I'm not driving my 54. It's an 86 Dodge Omni. That's right.... the lowly econo-box of the 1980's. While not one of the 500 numbered S cars, it is a turbo GLH (short for "Goes Like Hell" as coined by Carrol Shelby). I bought the car in 05, and have been fighting it ever since. Between having to rebuild the motor, blowing 2 trans', temporarily losing the car to a shady mechanic who disappeared along with everything he was working on, and weathering the harsh streets of downtown Detroit street parking for 2 years, the car and I share a special relationship. I wont bore ya with all the details, but after rebuilding the suspension, and having some steelies widened for it, it's back on the road after a 8 month hiatus. It's grimey, beat up, it rattles and shakes, and it wakes up my entire subdivision when i fire it up.
I love it. My wife, (and probably my neighbors) hate it. It's my ridiculous little monster.
When I bought it in '05:
As it sits today: