'RPM' is basically about my pace in life, and I think a lot of people can relate to that. Our video is going to involve a really nice car with some fast driving. It's going to be really cool. I'm excited for people to see it!
I had so many older brothers who beat up on me, so I'm a tough kid. I love mixed martial arts, weapons training, guns, knives, driving fast cars and motorcycles.
When I have to do something fast, I wear the most unflattering rubber pants over my pants and a big easy sweater. I can get on my knees in the garden in whatever condition, and when I'm done, I can take it off, get in the car, and drive to the office...
Lenny the Binoculars: [Lenny spots RC Car rocketing toward the open moving van] Hey, look! It's Woody and Buzz, comin' up fast!
I don't know what to do with it. I'm very fortunate to have it, and it gives you room to maneuver. But the main thing about having money is it means you don't have to worry about it. And that for me is a lovely thing. It's not for fast cars and hooke...
When you think of bike couriers, you think of hyper speed. They get paid by how fast they can drop stuff off. The faster you go, the more chances you take. And the more chances you take, the greater the war between cyclists and cars.
Sonny: Alright, listen to me. You pull up right where she lives, right? Before you get outta the car, you lock both doors. Then, get outta the car, you walk over to her. You bring her over to the car. Dig out the key, put it in the lock and open the ...
He was a professional athlete and coach, a Ferrari who lived his life in the fast lane. She was a girl-next-door kind of girl, closer to a golf cart than a sports car.
This new world was a vicious, sleek world made of street lights and tight jeans, sharp smiles and fast cars. This was a city, edited. A city, pared down to its bare minimums, beautiful and abusive.
I don't purposely speed, but I might go over by five or six miles an hour from time to time. It doesn't give me a buzz driving on normal roads, because I can't go fast enough. It's never going to be anything like an F1 car.
One morning, about four o'clock, I was driving my car just about as fast as I could. I thought, Why am I out this time of night? I was miserable, and it came to me: I'm falling in love with somebody I have no right to fall in love with.
I'm a massive scaredy cat. I'm scared of being in a fast car, I'm scared of being on a rollercoaster, I would never go skiing, I would never do anything that had the possibility of endangering my life in any way. I should get some therapy, really.
Driving a stock car does not require much handling ability, at least not as compared to Grand Prix racing, because the tracks are simple banked ovals and there is almost no shifting of gears. So, qualifying becomes a test of raw nerve - of how fast a...
I drive an S80 Volvo; it's one of those real flashy cars. No, I just like it because I like a nice, cush ride; the Volvo is really cush, and it's powerful and fast.
[Ed is driving Philip's Jaguar very fast, dodging other cars as he tries to escape the zombies] Philip: [pompously] You *do* realise this is a 20 mph zone? Ed: [grinning] Oh yeah!
Walking was not fast enough so we ran. Running was not fast enough, so we galloped. Galloping was not fast enough, so we sailed. Sailing was not fast enough, so we rolled merrily along on long metal tracks. Long metal tracks were not fast enough, so ...
He left the drapes open, watched the lights of the cars and of the fast food joints through the window glass, comforted to know there was another world out there, one he could walk to anytime he wanted.
Three questions,” I said, ticking them off on my fingers as I spoke. “One: do you have a car? Two: do you have plans tonight? And three: how fast can you drive?
During the early days of HootSuite, when social media was still seen as a fad, I made the decision to treat our funding as if it were my personal bank account. That's not to say I blew it on fast cars and fancy dinners. Exactly the opposite.
By 1990 I went back to no gasoline; I was just riding around on my bike, taking the bus. I had a tiny little electric car that didn't go very far or very fast. People thought I'd lost my mind. Even my own family thought I'd lost my mind.
I was quiet, a loner. I was one of those children where, if you put me in a room and gave me some crayons and a pencils, you wouldn't hear from me for nine straight hours. And I was always drawing racing cars and rockets and spaceships and planes, th...
