About as useful as tits on a sneaker, as my dear friend Armen would say. But damn, are they sexy. I wish I could race one through traffic the way I once did up Madison Ave in NYC, on my Ducati Monster, but the traffic here is just too darn thick. Strange as it is, I swear, it is easier for a car to dart through traffic and avoid lights in NYC at rush hour than on an LA freeway (albeit the 110 downtown) at 10 pm. How sad is that? Every time I see one of those sexy Italian race cars, the dog in me comes out, and I just want to CHASE them! Damn.