It's the Charles Bronson of station wagons...but tougher!

There is a new car running around out there. Okay, maybe it's new and maybe it isn't. It takes me a while to notice stuff. You could set me on fire right when I get out of bed and I'd probably figure it out around lunch. But there is a car out there that is beginning to drive me nuts. It's the Dodge Magnum.

I can only imagine the mess inside the heads of the guys who buy this thing. They probably all go on to the car lot with a similar story.
Guy: Hi, I'm already questioning my sexuality but my wife says I can't have a truck. Thing is, I need something to haul around my cigars and baseball bats. (snort...spit)
Salesman: Here you go sir. It's the Magnum.
Guy: That's a station wagon! I can't have people thinking I'm gay, or a soccer mom, or a gay soccer mom.
Salesman: But sir, it has tinted windows and it's named after a gun!
Guy: Can I tell my friends that the Magnum stands for Magnum P.I.?
Salesman: You tell 'em whatever you need to, macho man.
Guy: I'll take it!
I mean, come on. Just buy a minivan, tie a giant fake mustache to the grill, and paint "Shut up! I like girls!" down the side. At least you wouldn't be sending mixed signals. The Magnum is like buying an Easy Bake Oven and plastering it with "Skilsaw" decals.
Now, you'll notice I've said nothing about the women who would buy a Magnum. That's because there aren't any. I've seen roughly four hundred bajillion of these in the last month or so and not one was driven buy a woman. There has been a man behind the wheel of every single Magnum I've seen. Half the time they're driving alone. The other half of the time they have a woman in the passenger seat saying something like, "You don't have to be embarrassed honey. It happens to all men some times."
Oh well, I guess you buy whatever car it takes to keep you from crying into your pillow at night.
What do I drive? Let's just say I know that it takes 82 balls of yarn to make a mustache nine feet wide.