The Machinist – Miguel Senquiz

Calm and collected. Calculating and caustic. If Freeman is the explosion, Miguel “Migs” Senquiz is the pyrotechnic. Migs is the machinist of the group, which inherently makes his work solitary and quiet and, on the surface, he has adopted these traits himself. An anomaly of competitive automotive personality, we’re still not convinced Senquiz was birthed rather than self-willed into existence.

The Making of the Machinist

Not a lot is known about Migs, and we think he prefers to keep it that way. What we do know is that Migs began drag racing from the time he spawned into existence. He claims to have been in diapers, but we are skeptical he was ever an infant. We would say his blood type is race fuel but honestly, we’re not sure if he bleeds. Anything with 4 wheels is fair game for Migs, though, and he’s dabbled in most all motorsports. His trade was learned out of necessity and practice makes perfectionists.

Although his automotive background is cross-disciplinary, the area that made his heart grow three sizes was drifting. While living in Arizona in 2006 (we don’t know why), a herd of hood rats began hosting “unsanctioned” events, to put it lightly. Empty housing tracts became impromptu drifting tracks and Migs began attending as a spectator. At one such event, Migs saw his first tandem drift and has been chasing the high ever since.

Migs bought his first, perfect, panda Nissan 240SX in 2007, but eventually sold it and cycled through several 240 chassis. He finally came across his current incarnation of a drift machine: champagne 1990 Nissan 240SX Coupe, purchased in 2008. It’s been a love/hate relationship ever since, and we don’t think he’d have it any other way.

Merging the Machinist with the Mess

An admirer of trash talk in all forms, Migs claims he first approach the Honeybadger himself because of a sticker on his original red drift Porsche that warned “DON’T JUDGE, your girlfriend needs paint too“. Over the next few years they began a casual acquaintance. When Migs needed a place to store some project cars, Freeman offered up some shop space in exchange for engine work. It would still be another year or so before they solidified their friendship in “draw!” style shootouts of flipping each other off as they pulled into the shop and late night beer and games that inevitably ended in one falling asleep with their boots on.

Migs and the Tech Machine Shop have become a pillar of what HoneyBadger Garage puts down on four wheels, but it comes with a cost. In a show of true professionalism, Migs stands firm behind all his work. Unfortunately for those he’s taken a liking to, this includes the penises drawn on crankshafts that power the Honeybager’s flagships (Freeman in turn has a habit of painting his handiwork for Migs neon pink, including his driveshaft). Just goes to show that a den can’t change the animal.