So you’ve set up a car blog, you’ve given it a feeble, clichéd name that’s some sort of piss-weak pun or soggily macho reference to power, you’ve written a sub-header that claims you take a sideways glance at motoring whatever the frig you think that means, and you’ve somehow persuaded a couple of manufacturers to lend you press cars. Now all you need to do is write a road test. Here’s how to do it:
Start with a grand, sweeping and self-regarding statement about your life and/or share one of your half-baked opinions as if the reader gives a flying shit about either.
Make a clunky link into the car itself, followed by an excessively detailed paragraph about its market positioning and aims which you’ve copied almost verbatim from the press pack.
Give your opinion on the exterior styling by saying it’s ‘smart’ and then move onto the interior, remembering to say it is ‘well laid out’ as if describing the table at a formal dinner.
Regurgitate all the numbers from the back of the press pack without bothering to convert nm to lb ft and then move into an assessment of straight line performance, always noting that it is ‘more than adequate’ and making some reference to ‘licence losing speeds’ so as to knowingly imply that at some point you bravely took it up to 84 on a motorway. Remember when talking about this aspect to use the phrase ‘mile muncher’ in a horribly self-satisfied way that makes it seem like you’re the first person to think of this phrase.
Move on to an assessment of the handling, making full use of tedious clichés like ‘the twisties’ and describing the level of grip via some sort of cloying, sub-Clarkson analogy. Proudly analyse the handling balance as if you are Jackie Stewart tearing it around Spa and not just a ham-fisted clit who circled a local roundabout four times until there was understeer.
Oh, and don’t forget to make pompous reference to ‘the [insert name of website] test route’ as if this is an official and internationally recognised thing and not, as is actually the case, some roads near your house.
At this point you should make a tiny, tiny criticism of some small aspect of the car to show that you’re hard hitting. And then follow it with quick acceptance that actually this microscopic flaw isn’t really an issue. Oh God, oh God, oh God, please don’t stop lending me free cars.
Wrap things up with a lazy, soft lob conclusion in which you decide the car is class leading or at least as good as some other cars of about the same size, though of course these are also good as well because all cars are good, especially when they’re arriving at your house for a week with a full tank of fuel. Don’t worry that this model has been on sale for three years and no one is interested in any of the milky and unimaginative things you have to say about it.
Before you publish your test, don’t forget to write an ‘about’ page in which you describe yourself as ‘opinionated’ or ‘outspoken’, completely ignoring that anyone who describes themselves as such almost certainly isn’t.
And that’s it! You can now tell people you are a motoring journalist and they will nod and smile as if being introduced to Woodward & Bernstein rather than, as is actually the case, a feckless tit who just wants free cars to drive around in and is offering little to no entertainment or informational value and wouldn’t know an original thought if it came on the free branded USB stick.
Best of luck!
Next blog > Your achingly self-conscious opinions on speed cameras, like it’s 2001 all over again.