I think this is my first Lincoln, and what a Lincoln it is. Longer than a Ford Excursion and wide than a Hummer H2, this is NOT a car for the size-conscious. This thing is HUGE. Setting off its intimidating presence is it's faded, worn brown paint. The lack of shine, in addition to the steelies shows roadgoers that this car means business. The interior was bone stock, faded Lincoln affairs, which probably, by this time, smells like a combonation of rotten Ford leather, and whatever leftover food graces the stained, torn, 30 year old carpet and dash.
I can vividly imagine this big Lincoln barreling down a dark, desolate highway chasing after, and intimidating unsuspecting motorists. Its the car you'd imagine in a horror flick, driven by some crazed serial murderer/stalker type person. Except, this one prowls the streets of Minneapolis, intimidating nonaware drivers, but also attracting views from car-savvy folks who know what it is. Oddly enough, I can picture myself driving this beast. Foot on the floor, GNR playing loudly and staticly on the battered, non-receptive AM/FM radio, and taunting some poor fool out for a Sunday drive in his smaller car. Wait. This isn't a semi. Nevertheless the idea sounds fun. Though I wouldn't want to be in the car this big guy was chasing.
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