Some think that if you enjoy the sound of a V8 and a whiff of burnt rubber, you’re a climate-denying dinosaur. Time to set the steering straight

I know that I’m pigeon-holed sometimes. And I know why. I love cars, especially big hairy monstrous motors that smoke their tyres and obliterate decibel detectors. 

Yes, my name is Shahzad and I’m an Autoholic. I confess the thrum of a V8 turns me on, octane is my cologne, and a gear-snatching, wheel-twirling thrash up a twisty road is my therapy. Cyclists are annoying, traffic cameras are the enemy, and the Highway Code is a quaint little booklet that’s just the right thickness for the wobbly leg of my coffee table. 

And most damning of all, I refuse to apologise for any of this.