Top Gear Cockometer Instant

Richard laughed so hard he swerved. The Porsche’s sensor registered the swerve as “hotdogging” and dinged him to . “I wasn’t even doing anything!” he squealed.

“Right,” Jeremy began, his voice echoing off the hangar walls. “James, Richard. Look at this. I thought I’d seen everything. A tyre pressure gauge that tells you the weather. A sat-nav that judges your parking. But this…” top gear cockometer

The Volvo, parked silently between a Land Rover and a skip, displayed a final reading of . Richard laughed so hard he swerved

Richard attempted to overtake a caravan on a blind bend. The Porsche’s nose lifted, the dial buried itself at , and the voice announced: “Cock of the Year candidate registered. Sending telemetry to insurance database.” Richard went pale. ” Jeremy began