Snap of the Day 24: BBiBBiR Fever.

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Watch: 580bhp 2012 Camaro ZL1 Wrung Round ‘Ring.

Listen to the supercharged whine of the Camaro ZL1’s 580bhp and 556 lb-ft LSA V8 as it’s flogged around the famed Nürburgring Nordschleife:

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Lamborghini Aventador NYC Rooftop Launch Party.

As hinted yesterday, I was part of a fortunate group of attendees invited to Manhattan Motorcars’ exclusive Lamborghini Aventador rooftop launch party. Thanks in no small part to my kickass creative director.

Fashionably late, we pulled up in Wyatt’s Porsche 928, quickly checked in, and sauntered into the showroom’s massive elevator. After a short ride the attendant raised the massive cage door to reveal our evening’s festivities: custom-suited socialites and tightly-wrapped models, hand-rolled cigars and Blancpain watches, five Gallardos, two Murcielagos, and the main event sitting ominously in the midst of it all.

She sat there silently, subtly hinting at her 325lb carbon fiber monocoque, her longitudinal-posterior 690bhp V12, and her jaw-dropping $379,700 price tag. Wasting little time, we made our way through the gathering crowd, acquiring what would best be referred to as a king’s ransom of free libations.

With me in my Gulf Racing jacket and Wyatt in a brown leather bomber, we stood out like a sore thumb, but without the suited camouflage of the rest of the attendees, it wasn’t such a bad thing. We were quickly approached by two young ladies—one blonde midwest type, the other asian and fumbling with her camera phone. I offered to help. As I aimed her Blackberry and she struck her most sultry pose, the music halted and our evening’s host got on the mic, much to her (and my) dismay.

Stumbling through a spec sheet that, for ninety percent of the guests, could have been written in Cryrillic, the direction was given to remove the silken black cover. Awestruck, the crowd audibly gasped—most had never seen or even heard of the Aventador.

With the New York City skyline casting a diffused glow upon the Nero Nemesis matte finish, the Frecci Tricolori-styled LED lamps radiating cool blue up front and searing red out back, and the unmistakeable scissor doors swung open, the Aventador’s New York Shitty debut was nothing if not dramatic.

I had to get closer. Squeezing through the crowd of beautiful people I managed to lower myself into the Aventador’s cockpit imagining my first time in the new bull to be full of amazement. Instead, I was met with slight disappointment. Not because it wasn’t cool, but maybe because it was too cool. There’s so much going on, so many buttons, and too many goddamn angular surfaces.

But I digress, it’s a complaint I could definitely live with. I mean, it’s a Lamborghini for fuck’s sake. Of course I’d manage to live with it. And so would you.

A big thanks to Wyatt, Kleinfeld Men, Blancpain, and Manhattan Motorcars.

Raging Bull on a Hot Tin Roof.

The Lamborghini Aventador NYC rooftop launch party is going down tonight at Lamborghini Manhattan.

Yours truly will be in attendance, thanks to my super generous creative director — Look for images from the event tomorrow.

Update: Here’s the full story.

My Grandfather’s Dealership, Circa 1966: Ken O’Keefe Ford

My Grandfather passed away two weeks ago, and as I sit here hours before my flight back to Detroit for his memorial, I thought there’d be no better time than now to share a couple images I recently came across from his earlier years as a Kentucky-based Ford dealer.

The above images depict his first dealership, Ken O’Keefe Ford, which he opened around 1965-66 at 4071 Shelbyville Rd., St. Matthews, Kentucky—a small suburb of Louisville. My Grandfather was a man extremely proud of his heritage and wanted you to know it too. Note the huge green shamrock-adorned sign.

And these two images (above & below) were taken at the Battle of the Thunderbolts at US 60 dragway in Hardinsburg, KY. My Grandfather sponsored Walt Derringer’s Thunderbolt during the time he owned his dealership. Not quite sure how successful he was, but it’s pretty neat to me nonetheless.

At eighty-years young, he was an amazing man, and without a doubt, the one I learned from the most. I just wish I’d have had more time with him. If you’d have known him, you’d have loved him. We all did.

Onboard the Glorious 1974 Kremer 911 RSR at the ‘Ring.

Watch below as Wolfgang Pohl tames the thirty-seven year old 3.0-liter RSR around the Nordschleife’s 154 turns.