Jeep Cherokee, Toyota Celica, Mitsubishi Pajero: The Dopest Cars I Found For Sale Online

I am, and always will be, a sucker for boxy old trucks and vans that look like absolute shit. If this Chevy Van — the actual make and model of this vehicle — were in immaculate condition, gleaming paint on a showroom floor, I may still be intrigued by it as I scroll past on Marketplace. This, though, I love.

Something about that patch of paintlessness on the hood really just speaks to this Van’s whole aesthetic deal. It fits well with the headlight surrounds that stick out past the body, the windows that cross below the beltline, and the unequally sized wheel wells. I need this.

Speaking of small details that really tie the room together, take a good look at this Cherokee. What do you see? There’s the two-door layout, the shining roof rack, and the all-terrrain tires, but I want to talk about something even more arcane: Look at that front air dam.

That, to me, visually balances out the entire front end of the Jeep. It’s a complement to the raised Jeep logo sitting atop the grille, and the hood that arcs upwards to surround it. That would all be off-kilter if not for the little air dam beneath the license plate. Details like that are why I’d never cut it as a car designer, because I’d never think to add that in.

This was the absolute peak of modified car design. A drab green Dodge Neon — not even an SRT-4 — could, through the continued efforts of an owner with just enough money and absolutely zero sense, be turned into a rolling monument to camp. I cannot overstate my love for sex-spec cars.

The funniest thing about this Neon, to me, is that from straight on it looks absolutely stock. All the work went to the sides and rear, making it seem like the builder of the Neon intended it to be seen primarily from behind. Presumably while winning races. Chef kiss.

People point to the Celica as “that time Toyota ripped off the Mustang.” You can see where they’re coming from, with the three-segment tail lights and the very pony car-looking rear windows. The problem with the theory, though, is that a ripoff generally implies a poor imitation. The Celica looks better than any Mustang ever could.

I realize that, by including this take on Slide 4 of a weekly slideshow, it might look like I’m burying it to avoid criticism. I assure you, this is an opinion I hold near and dear to my heart, because I am correct in every possible metric. The Celica looks better than the Mustang.

I’m so happy that we’re reaching a point in the FK8 Civic Type R’s lifecycle where the low-effort Facebook Marketplace ads are popping up. This Type R has tiny wheels, blacked-out glass that may still have wrecking yard paint marker on it, and there is not a single photo that shows details of any body damage.

Bonus points for the screenshot of a CarFax report, that shows only the free summary you get when you don’t want to buy an actual CarFax report. That’s dedication to the low-effort bit, and I salute it.

Speaking of low-effort ads, this Frankensteined 240SX has the classic “single run-on sentence description” that we all know and love so well. It’s particularly egregious here, when the description should be giving some sort of description as to why the car doesn’t work, but alas.

The seller claims an ISR turbo kit, which may have something to do with that non-op state — perhaps the owner threw a bit too much boost at their problem, and ended up with a rod leaving the chat. Or maybe the engine was stolen out from under the hood in the dead of night by gnomes. We have no way of knowing, but wouldn’t it be fun to fix this thing up and find out?

The Rav4 Prime was all the rage during the era of the pandemic when anyone cared even a little bit about preventing a fatal and disabling disease from running rampant through the global population, when the crossovers had massive markups and could rarely even be found on dealer lots. All those buyers, though, were missing out on an even better Rav4 the whole time.

These early crossovers were such a reasonable size! They were cute little things, with good colors and manual transmissions. You look at those seats, astride that stick shift, and tell me you’d rather have the modern hybrid option. Do it. I dare you.

Normally I deride ads for including only one photo, but this one really gets the point across in one single shot. This Hardbody is body, red, has body-side graphics, and the undercarriage looks free of rust. Sold.

The seller claims the truck is entirely rust free, tip to tail, which is difficult for a born and bred Northeasterner like me to believe. Rust is just a thing that happens to any vehicle that ever makes contact with a road. You can’t change it, cars just grind down into nothing after a few years. Is that not how it works everywhere?

The Campagna T-Rex has been around for quite a while, but it wasn’t until this ad that I noticed something verry funny about the little three-wheeler. Look at the top intake, above the cabin. It has to connect to the engine, right? How does it do that?

Most cars would just take the intake shape and carry it down to the engine bay, but the T-Rex is different. It just throws some dryer hose in there and calls it a day, because air’s gotta get from one place to another and by god do dryer hoses move air. This is the kind of raceday engineering that I live for, the kludged-together masterpieces that actually set lap records while the supercar drivers are trying to keep their bumpers out of the walls.

I respect this seller for somehow taking all of the photos for this ad back in the year 1973. The 2008 Honda Goldwing was a response to the oil embargo, actually, when Honda elected to make a comfortable touring bike that saved fuel massively over cars in an attempt to win over buyers. That’s not even a little bit true, but it sounds plausible if you ignore the years, right?

I’ve seen a few Goldwings converted into trikes, and I always have to wonder what they’re really like to ride. My own experience with three-wheeled vehicles has been somewhat unique and characterful, and I wonder if any of that comes back on such a dialed-in machine. I hope so.

The seller of this Pajero claims it’s a “Dakar edition,” which of course made me — midway through my latest viewing of Long Way Down — stop and click. As far as I can tell, there wasn’t a Dakar edition Pajero in 1989, which makes me wonder just what the seller means. I think it’s just the spare tire cover, if we’re being honest.

Special edition or no, though, the Pajero is a very cool vehicle. Right-hand drive, turbodiesel engine, four-wheel drive, a snorkel — it’s the perfect support vehicle for following two actors and a cameraperson on motorcycles as they ride through Africa. I know, Down is far from the fun of Round, but they’re both worth the watch. I’ll defend Up too.

This is the kind of ad that gets the devil on my shoulder talking. Not only is it a K5 Blazer, it’s a K5 with a rooftop tent. And a soft top. And a bed extend ion gate. And a roof rack. And a perfect ride height. And great wheels. And and and and —

Someday, I swear I’ll own a boxy convertible SUV for loading up with friends and traipsing on down to the beach on a sunny day. I don’t even like the beach, but I think I would if I arrived in this kind of style.

Or this kind of style, which I’ll also count. When did we stop offering cars in near-pastel hues, and for what possible reason? An act of spite against me, as yet unborn, simply knowing I would come to pass and working to ensure my misery?

I’ve long been a sucker for the Land Cruiser, and this FJ62 is no exception to my love. I’m a particular fan of the worn-out shift knob — the rest of the truck could almost pass for new, it’s in immaculate condition, but that knob shows all the years this Toyota’s hauled folks around.

I have friends to whom this wagon may well be one of the high points of American vehicle manufacturing. I do not understand how their brains work, but I bet some of you think in the same way. If so, here’s a Chevy Caprice wagon. Have fun.

The Caprice does seem to be missing a window, but that’s fine. I’m sure, somewhere, another Caprice wagon has given up the ghost and is just dying to have its parts reused to rebuild its kin. Some wrecker’s gotta have the part, right? After 32 years?

This BMW has a very odd feature: An ABS delete. Now, this makes more sense to me than the brake booster deletes I’ve seen hyped by fragile men whose only concept of masculinity — and thus Duty and Worth and Value As A Person — is suffering, but I’m still not sure it’s a feature I’d want on my own bike.

Sure, I’ve been known to turn off ABS from time to time (particularly in the dirt) but I’ve also been known to engage it during hard braking on wet, slippery roads. I’d rather have it and not need it, y’know?