Fuckmobile

...we don't always have to make it in this..." She gestured around. "...this damn fuckmobile!"

I ate Starr in the back of the Chevy Suburban that Jimmy Dime had so delicately dubbed the fuckmobile.

Oh, you Brits, you stuck-up, hedonistic hypocrites—you built a banker's fuckmobile!

"We called it the fuckmobile," he recalls fondly today. "It had over three hundred thousand miles on it and was all souped up to look like a Lincoln Zephyr—like a gangster car. So I said, 'What's wrong with the car?'"