Memorable metaphor of the day

Dan Neil, the great and wonderful car critic of the LA Times, reviews the Pontiac G8. It's a product of GM's worldwide presence, imported from Australia. My favorite automotive writer shares some colorful impressions of Australia, particularly Foster's, of which, apparently, neither he nor Australians approve:

Foster's makes Pabst Blue Ribbon seem like the scintillating golden cataract from Bacchus' boundless fountain.

I think Mexicans have the same opinion of Corona. This is a good review, fun as always, but Neil is at his best either praising automotive excess and genius, or damning and shredding garbage dressed up in sheet metal. He is also at his best when throwing out a metaphor that just would not occur to a less-talented writer:

I noted today, while I was standing at the pump putting $4.85-a-gallon hi-test in the galling muscle car, that I kind of felt like a guy standing at an ATM next to a bordello. The reek of monetized sin was upon me.

I am going to have trouble getting that image out of my head the next time I pump gas for $4.85 a gallon. Bottom line on this review? Good car, not great, a little late:

It would be a shoo-in for Car of the Year, if the year were 2005.

So the conclusion that we can draw today is that Australian products that wrap metal around leather and plastic and cost thousands of dollars are good, but Australian products that wrap metal around generic yeast-modified water are not so good.