Ever loved someone so much but knew they'd eventually murder you? That's what it's like to drive this chopped up, straight-piped 1968 Beetle rat-rod. It's lowered to the floor, has rickety custom fenders, doesn't go real fast, and takes every bump like a fat guy falling down. But hey, what's wrong with a little nervousness that your car will fall apart while you're driving it, amirite?
