Cold snaps are springing up all over the United States and Europe like mushrooms in a hippy’s grow box. Just as the eastern seaboard began thawing out, snow storms started to drop their wintry white stuff all over the midwest and Colorado. Over in Brussels, thousands of travelers found themselves trapped when Eurostar train services were halted by the snow. It’s bedlam out there!
Luckily, the weather here is San Diego is still in the mid-60s, dipping into the 50s when the sun goes down. Although it seems brisk to us, it’s hardly blizzard conditions.
In keeping with the holiday spirit, we want to share the gift of warmth to everyone. No, we’re not flying you out to San Diego. And no, we’re not sending you tins of sterno. We’re showcasing a movie trailer for one of the 1970s’ shtik-iest car flicks: Corvette Summer. Haven’t seen it? Here’s a quick synopsis. An often shirtless Mark Hamill builds a hideous custom Stingray in his high school shop class, but the ‘Vette is stolen, so Mark teams up with a lovable Las Vegas “hooker-in-training” (Anne Potts) on a summer-long adventure to recover the car. Though it won’t stimulate your intellect, it certainly stokes the flames of nostalgia. Take a look:
There are a few well-known Russian exports: strong vodka, delicious caviar and mail-order brides. But did you know that one of the most luxurious (self-proclaimed) auto manufacturers is located in Lenin’s backyard? They go by the name Dartz, and they take their coach-adorning craft to scary, scary extremes.
How extreme, you ask? 3 words: whale penis leather. Let that sink in for a minute. Ponder it. Mull it over. Chew on it. Now, consider it again: whale penis leather.
Turns out, Dartz considered land mammal leather a little too gauche for one of their uber upper-crust automobiles. So they found a supplier of whale penis leather, which they intended to use for the seats. When animal rights activists, Pamela Anderson included, caught a whiff of Dartz’s plans, they protested. And the public outcry worked.
In response to the protests, Dartz left the whale penis leather out of the final design. In a cryptic press release that reads like Gogol Bordello liner notes, a Dartz company man by the name of Leonard F. Yankelovich states:
We have no any ideas to kill the whale or something like that. All we want – to make just luxury car…We just looking for most expensive products for this car – and that’s why we choosed whale penis leathure when we checked it is most of most. [Sic]
Obviously moved by the pleas of the animal rights activists, Yankelovich goes on to make a personal statement to cetaceans everywhere:
We want to tell our hello to all whales: ‘Our Sea Brothers! We all know that earth are stand on three whales – we will keep You live! We don’t Earth fall down to Ocean!’ [Sic]
In a final act of magnanimity, Dartz also commissioned the (Photoshop) construction of a tribute car to Pamela Anderson and the other animal rights activists. Take a gander:
Worried that someone you care about might give you a gift this holiday that’ll make you question why you care about them? There’s only 1 sure fire way to make sure your loved ones don’t accidentally reveal that they know nothing about you: tell ‘em what you want. Here are a couple of suggestions that we added to our site last night.
We found out long ago from the teachings of Lyndsay Buckingham that it’s a long way down Holiday Road. Now that we’ve eaten our way through another Thanksgiving, that route just got a lot more treacherous because every destination along the way is going to be infected with Xmas songs. Dylan croonin’ Little Drummer Boy. Run DMC spitting hot fire about Hollis. Beagles barking out Jingle Bells. O, the horror!
If you’re looking for a little reprieve, don’t turn to your car radio. The airwaves always get overrun with holly-poisoned ditties this time of year.
Your best bet for bah-humbugging these pernicious carols is to drown them out with your own iPod playlists. Luckily, if your stock stereo didn’t come equipped with an auxiliary jack, you can professionally integrate your iPod right at home with a Dice iPod Car Adapter. Unlike those crackly FM transmitters, this kit is custom configured to hardwire right into your stereo for crystal-clear audio. It even keeps your player fully charged while you drive, so you’ve always got plenty of juice to build an impenetrable Ramones barrier between yourself and Bing Crosby’s White Christmas.
The weather is cooler, it’s getting dark earlier, and there has even been some light drizzle that Southern Californians describe as heavy rain. This can only mean one thing—the seasons are changing. Fall is here, and before we know it, we’ll be clearing plates from the table after a Thanksgiving Feast. Then guess what?! It’s Christmas shopping season! With the stress of knowing there are just 71 days to get presents purchased, wrapped and put under the tree, we’ve launched 3 new products for early-Christmas shoppers everywhere.
Vizualogic Quantum Overhead Monitors- How do you keep your kids’ yaps zipped on the road? Take a lesson from Houdini and practice the art of distraction by slipping a copy of The Secret of NIHM into the Vizualogic Quantum. Find this and more in our car monitors category.
It’s a few weeks into a sprung spring and we’re celebrating proper with colorful new products. Taste the rainbow.
Rampage Jeep Seats – Comfy as a La-Z-Boy and made custom for Jeep, Rampage Seats spruce up a rag-tag interior.
Rampage Jeep Seat Covers – These seat covers beg for a beating. Custom-made from durable neoprene, they stand up to abuse and look good doing it.
Rampage Jeep Recovery Bumpers – Because there’s nothing worse than getting stuck between a rock and another rock, we’ve got Rampage Jeep Recovery Bumpers.
Rampage Jeep Rock Rage Bumpers – Rock Rage Bumpers are ideal for plowing through the great outdoors or protecting your Jeep in the urban jungle.
Rampage ATV Covers – For a day or a season, these ATV & UTV covers protect your mini off-roader.
Rampage UTV Neoprene Seat Covers – Neoprene construction, intense off-road looks. And, these UTV seat covers come in 3 sporty styles.
Bully Dog Triple Dog GT Tuner – Boosts HP, increases MPG—you know the drill. Only available for power-hungry diesels at the moment.
T-Rex Hex-Series Billet Grilles – If you were a ferocious dinosaur, you’d be a T-Rex. If you played in an English glam-rock band, it would be T. Rex. And, if you install a new billet grille, that grille should be a T-Rex.
Hauler Rack II – Incredible 1200 lbs load capacity, brawny construction and a partially assembled bolt-together design.
Hauler Racks Van Drop Down Ladder Rack Accessory – Makes life with the Hauler Racks Universal Van Rack that much easier. Telescoping handle rotates the rack from the roof to the side of the van for more convenient ladder loading.
Hauler Racks Tonneau Rack – Hauls bikes, camping gear, tools and more, plus works with your over-the-rail soft tonneau. Easy installation, adjustable crossbars and Sport and Utility style options.
Extang Cargo Cleat – In, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, Pym is nearly crushed by cargo while stowing away in the hold of the ill-fated “Grampus.” If Poe’s protagonist had Extang Cargo Cleats (and was hiding in a pickup bed instead of a ship’s hold) he would have been safe thanks to the 500 lbs load rating.
Steelcraft Bull Bar – This front end guard is forged from T304 stainless steel for ultimate protection, plus comes with a removable skid plate. Black or Polished finish.
Steelcraft Grille Guard – A heavy-duty facemask for trucks and SUVs, this grille guard boasts T304 stainless steel construction and removable brush guards. Black or Polished finish.
Curt Spare Tire Mount – When you’re loaded down with gear, the Curt Spare Tire Mount makes it easy to bring along that spare. Fits into front or rear 2″ receiver hitches and works with all sizes of tires and rims.
Curt Cargo Carrier – Bring along all of your wet, messy or stinky gear with this handy hitch-mounted cargo carrier. The tubular steel construction securely carries up to 500 lbs. Available with a fixed or folding shank.
Curt Skid Shield – Plug an extra layer of defense into your front-mounted receiver hitch with this tough skid shield. Fits all 2″ receivers.1-year warranty.
Curt License Plate Holder – If a front-mounted hitch has displaced your license plate, this handy holder is a great solution. Fits all 2″ receivers.1-year warranty.
Curt Trailer Lock – Make sure thieves don’t take off with your trailer with this dual-ratchet locking system. Fits all couplers. 1-year warranty.
Curt Step Pad – Step up to your vehicle with ease. The Curt Step Pad fits in any 2″ receiver and has a skid resistant step pad. 1-year warranty on this hunk of metal.
Curt Wheel Chock Lock – Keep those wheels from rollin’ away! The Curt Wheel Chock Lock fits a variety of tire and wheel sizes. 1-year warranty.
Curt Winch Mount – Bolt that winch right on to the front of your rig with Curt strength. Available with or without handles, 1-year warranty.
Valley Gooseneck Hitch – Add up to 30,000 lbs of hauling capacity that neatly tucks away when not in use. Backed by a 5-year warranty.
Truck Covers USA Cargo Lights – Like a nightlight for truck bed cargo, American Cargo Lights nix blind grabs for your tools. Kits and strips available.
You don’t need the detective skills of Andy Sipowicz or Remington Steele to be a successful private investigator. Basically, you’ve got to have a tenacious attitude, a fast camera, potent coffee, and a crystal clear windshield. After years of fighting with the lousy wiper blades from my local auto parts warehouse, I finally made the switch over to PIAA wiper blades. Now I’m hooked.
When I tell people that I’m a private investigator, they always ask me to take them for a ride in my Ferrari. Little do they know, but real life P.I. work is nowhere nearly as glamorous as Magnum makes it out to be. Maybe they do things differently in Hawaii, but I’ve never met a private dick on the payroll of a mysterious billionaire. Don’t get me wrong—I wouldn’t turn down an invitation to live in the Robin’s Nest, even if it meant having to put up with a bunch of vets. I just have serious doubts that it would ever happen to me or anyone else.
No. The life of a sleuth is hardly romantic. Most of my time is spent cooped up in my Eldorado running surveillance on a cheating spouse. To be honest, it’s pretty damn boring. If it weren’t for sudoku, I’d have taken my own life a long time ago. And when I’m not copping a squat in my car, I’m out walking the streets following up on leads and knocking on stranger’s doors. You don’t even want to know how many pairs of Keds and tubes of hemorrhoid cream I go through each year from all the pavement I pound and all the long nights spent sitting on my keister. Then, at the end of the day, I barely pull down enough to keep up with my mortgage and alimony payments.
But I don’t like to complain. I’m actually a pretty accomplished investigator. Back in 1994, I won the coveted Dick of the Year Award for nabbing a ring of yutzes who were running a worker’s comp scam out in Inglewood. I’ve learned a lot of things over the years—mostly the hard way. But I’ve come to realize that a great P.I. really only needs a handful of traits and tools: a persistent personality, a high-quality camera, plenty of strong coffee, and, above all else, a clean windshield. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve had a primo shot ruined by some smeared bird squeeze or a streak of water spots.
I used to think that all windshield wipers worked just as good and that only rubes paid extra for the deluxe blades. However, I finally got fed up with staring out of a grimy windshield all day long, so I plunked down the extra bread on a set of PIAA wiper blades. The difference was night and day. Those wipers cut through everything from dirt to bug guts. Even the milkshake that someone I was tailing chucked at me was no match for my new blades. And my photos have never looked clearer. I don’t usually like to give away trade secrets, but I just couldn’t keep this to myself.
Wiper blades are often overlooked or forgotten, until you actually need them. I would suggest being a little proactive and looking into getting a set of PIAA wiper blades. They made a huge difference for me and my business.
Don’t know what to ask for this Christmas? Why not ask for something you can actually use – durable floor mats.
The fresh smell of evergreen and incessant jingling of bells can mean only one thing: Christmas time. Ah yes, the season for giving. But your days of toys and bicycles and games are behind you. Don’t fret, there are plenty of good gifts to get.
He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice… Have you been naughty? Have you been nice? Have too many curse words poured out of that cynical mouth of yours? Been flirting a little too much with the new leggy secretary? Hopefully, your courteous and noble deeds have landed you on the nice list this Christmas season. If so, cash in on that good behavior and make a killer wish list.
So what should you ask for? Well, you may not be able to get that new truck you’ve been dying for, but you can still get some great accessories. During the winter months, a majority of our country is bombarded with snow and ice. I used to live in Boston so I know how long winter really is. A solid set of floor liners make an excellent present. And although they may not be the “coolest” present, they are a great investment. Plus, they aren’t cheap! Why not have someone else shell out the bills for them so you can spend your money on what really want – beer and season tickets.
If you’re like me and enjoy getting to the mountains, then rubber mats are a “must have” item. When I get into my car after a long day of snowboarding, I don’t want to deal with being clean. I just want to rip open some chips and chuck the wrapper on the ground. I also to keep my feet warm, especially after being in ski boots all day. So my car’s floor heater will melt all the snow that my boots have accumulated. Without my floor mats, my feet would be resting in a puddle of water by the time I get home. Any not to be too gross, but my feet usually aren’t too “fresh” after skiing. Actually, I think the smell of damp, sweaty feet will probably make you gag. Now that I have liners, I can just open the door at a red light, pour out the water and be good to go. I don’t want to beat a dead horse, but I highly recommend getting some mats.
Now that I have covered the practical mats, the Dr. Jekyll if you will, I want to suggest getting a cold air intake, the Mr. Hyde. There are few “fun” presents to ask for once you hit 18, but I believe this is one of them. I don’t drive a Ferrari, but I still crave performance and get a thrill when I slam on the gas pedal. A cold air intake is an aftermarket air intake that is specifically designed to draw cooler air into the engine, thus giving you more horsepower. And this part will also give your vehicle a nice throaty growl; unlike your buddy’s Honda with the tin can muffler.
It depends on your vehicle and what modifications you have, but adding a cold air intake can add anywhere from 5 to 40 ponies. Not bad for a few hundred bucks if you ask me. I recommend these two products because they are moderately cheap and give you the best bang for your buck. If you are really craving performance, then you might want to ask for a whole performance exhaust system. But I guess that depends on how naughty or nice you were this year.
Living in New Jersey, I’ve grown accustomed to bad attitudes. That’s why it always surprises me when someone helps you out. Last weekend I was out with a few buddies ripping through the woods on our quads and I cruised into marsh. Eventually, a guy and his son stopped to help me. His big utility ATV had a winch on it, which pulled me right out. I guess Jersey might home a few decent people.
I have lived in the wonderful state of New Jersey for twenty two glorious years. This meant spending summers at the shore, drinking cawfee, and considering Italian food its own food group. This armpit of a state is the home of bad hair cuts and even worse accents. I can usually stomach the stereotypical flaws of the state, but I can’t stand the attitude. It’s like every kid growing up here had a poster of Tony Soprano on his wall instead of Superman or Batman. While I was busy jumping from trees with a cape around my neck, they were greasing down their scalps with enough hair gel to make John Travolta jealous.
Certain parts of Jersey don’t seem like reality. My high school parking lot looked more like a BMW dealership than a public school. You would think it was standard issue for the DMV to hand out sets of keys after passing a driver’s test. I guess our state needed something to replace iroqs. It probably doesn’t help the state’s general attitude if everyone is driving around in a BMW with a gold chair hanging from their neck and a ring hugging their pinky. Anyway, after years of hearing such comments from wise guys like “What are you looking at?” I started to think that the state was doomed. Maybe our country would be better if it cut off that little state and sent it floating off across the Atlantic for Europe to deal with.
I used to think that way until this past weekend. I was out with a few friends tearing through the woods on our quads, having a blast. It had rained the day before, which made the ground perfect for doing doughnuts and drifting turns. I started to cruise to a new part of the woods, but it was actually a marsh. Unfortunately, I was going pretty fast so my speed carried me halfway across the bog. I tried revving my engine, spinning my wheels, but not moving an inch. My quad is meant for racing, not mud so it only has two-wheel drive. My friends were all over in another part of the woods, leaving me stranded, covered in mud and frustrated.
Just when I was about to give up and trudge back through the woods to find my friends an older man on a big utility ATV passed by. “Oh great, now I have to deal with this guy giving me a hard time,” I thought. But he pulled up, took off his helmet and asked if I needed a hand. Did my ears deceive me? A Jersian asking to help? Well of course I did. He had a winch system hooked up to the front of his bike. This guy and his son tossed me the cable, which I hooked to my frame, and he pulled me right out. When I finally made it back to my friends, they didn’t even know I was gone.
We may not be the best, biggest, or cleanest state, but you can get one amazing slice of pizza. And if you look hard enough, in the deepest woods apparently, you may find some decent people. I was so thankful that the guy came along and that he had a winch. I think he said it was called a Warn winch or a Ramsey winch.
I lived a great life until I was in a horrible car accident. Luckily, I am still alive. But I could have avoided this bad experience if I had replaced my brake pads and paid more attention to my vehicle’s maintenance.
I am 26 years old and I was having problems with the performance of my brakes. I am an auto fan and love driving very fast, but driving fast only makes sense when you have brakes that can handle speeds over 100 mph. Two weeks ago I was with a few friends of mine at a racecourse to have a bit fun in a race competition. We were all driving very fast cars. For instance, I have a Lamborghini, so if you want to win such a competition you need pretty good brakes. I think there are three important factors that decide who will win a car race: The power of the car, the talent of the driver and last but not least the performance of the brakes. This hypothesis was confirmed by the mentioned race. After 20 rounds I was in second position, behind a friend driving a Ferrari with a bit more horsepower than mine, so I was content with the progress of the race. In round 21 I wanted to pass him with a risky maneuver. I knew it would be tricky but I had the confidence to try it. That was a mistake! My brakes were not able to handle the speed and I crashed into a small wall close to the racetrack. You cannot imagine the fear you have, when you see a wall coming closer and closer and you have no chance to avoid the accident. I am very happy that I am able to talk about this experience, which has changed my life. Not because I like to remember this day, but because I can warn guys like me, who risk their life, just to feel the speed.
At this moment, I am currently in a hospital and a nurse told me that I will be able to walk again, although I had complicated fractures in both legs. I thank god for giving me a second chance. But now I want to give something back. I was never rich so I am not able to help humanity by donating thousands of dollars. But I have experience concerning cars, which I can share with other guys, who are not supposed to repeat the same mistakes I made.
First of all I have to correct my hypothesis I stated earlier. The factors that characterize a winner were mentioned in the wrong order. The most important factor is the brake performance. You can be the best racer, you can have the most horse power, but if you are not able to brake like you need to after racing at speeds near 200 miles an hour, you will never be a winner. Maybe you will be famous because you are a young guy who lost his life in a car accident and people are interested in stories like that. But you will never have a wife, children and a nice home; attributes that define real winners. So listen to me and pay more attention to finding good brakes. The selection of good brakes is vast. For instance, there are the Hawk Brake Pads or the EBC Break pads, which have unmatched braking power that eclipse standard and even other performance pad replacements by 20-40%. And they are the ideal partner for a set of high performance rotors.
The last advice of mine will be the following: Seize the day and thank god for each day you live in this beautiful world. And buy good brake pads, because they are one of many steps to living a long happy life.
I suggest buying good and cheap Brake Pads online. There you will find the best selection of Car Brakes and other auto accessories.
Cold air intakes are one of the most popular modifications for car enthusiasts. But how effective are cold air intake really? I personally prefer regular or short ram air intakes over cold air intakes.
I recently put of few thousand miles on my car driving across the country. So I went over to the local Jiffy Lube to get my oil changed. The mechanic tried sell me a new air filter, but I chose to hold off. They weren’t giving me a great deal, so I figured I would at least check out a few performance air filters if I was going to be spending the money anyway. I started doing some research and discovered that there are two types of aftermarket intakes that people like: either short rams or cold air intakes. The two names pretty much are self explanatory. The short ram intake has a shorter pipe. The cold air intake has a longer pipe that allows the intake to breathe in cooler air because it is further from the engine. Sounds logical enough, but then I my inquisitive mind got the best of me. I’m a little unclear about the abilities of cold air intakes. If you have ever popped your hood after a long drive, you know that everything under the hood is scorching hot. Would it really matter if the intake head was a foot further from the engine? Moving the intake is like putting a pan in the oven; it is going to be hot no matter where it is because it is in a confined area with limited air flow. Secondly, cold air intakes have longer pipes, which mean that air has to travel a longer distance to reach the engine. I’m not a car expert, but I do know the general principle behind turbo engines and increasing horsepower. Horsepower is derived from an equation where the major factors are the amount of air flow to the engine and the density of that air. If a cold air intake is longer and is bent in order to reach a different part of the engine bay, then it will take air longer to reach the engine. Also, the bends in the cold air’s pipe prohibits maximum air flow; a short straight pipe would be ideal. Now even though the short ram intake is breathing warmer air because of its location, it will simply start sucking in cooler air as your car accelerates. Sure, it may not give you as much horsepower when you are at a stop sign, but then again, who cares? The weather should also be taken into account. If you live in Florida and it’s 94 degrees out, it doesn’t matter where your intake is; you’re not going to be getting cold air. And even if you are in premium driving conditions, how much cooler would the air be that is a foot away? Would you really miss or even be able to feel if you had 1 Hp less? I could see if you are Vin Diesel in the Fast and the Furious, racing for pink slips, then you might want to get the most out of your car. But until that day, I think regular air filters and short ram air filters are the better choice because they are cheaper.
Also, upgrading to an aftermarket AEM Cold Air Intake or a short ram Air Intake can add a throaty growl to your car’s sound. Both types of intakes have their pros and cons, so you should evaluate your priorities when shopping for one.
I guess you’re either a dog person or you’re not. Personally, I love dogs and enjoy having them in my life. I live an active lifestyle and try to bring them along as much as possible. But as much of a dog lover as I am, I still like to keep my house and car clean, which can be difficult with three Huskies running around. I found that cargo liners can help manage the mess.
My family always had dogs while I was growing up, which probably explains my love for the animals. We occasionally tried having cats, but I was never too fond of them; especially my sister’s cat Tobie, who confused my leg for a scratching post. Dogs generally have a positive and happy disposition and just enjoy being included. I started working with United Hope for Animals a year ago and it has been a truly rewarding experience. There is nothing better than watching the dog’s behavior transform as he works towards coming out of his shell and reaching his full potential in a positive environment. Huskies are my latest interest. I have found that they are incredible, intelligent creatures. I have been fostering three of them for quite some time now and although they may look a bit scary, really they are three teddy bears.
I live an active lifestyle and am always taking them to beaches, woods, dog parks, lakes. They can’t get enough of the outdoors. Since they have been getting older, they are growing too big for the car crates that I have for them. I have a Nissan Xterra, so I have been putting them in the rear cargo area for trips, but they are making the carpets dirty. My trunk area is covered in paw prints, hair, and I can’t seem to wash the wet dog odor out of them. I went to Petco to see if they had any puppy transportation solutions or cleaning products. They didn’t carry anything that would get the stains out, but they recommended purchasing some good cargo liners. Cargo liners are mats that fit in the back of your SUV that stop mud, liquid, and muck from destroying your carpets. I ended up getting them and they have made bringing my dogs in the car so much easier. After going to the lake, I can throw the dogs in the back, drive home, pull the liner out, hose it down, and done. It’s as easy as that. I really recommend these cargo liners for pet owners. They are also covered by a lifetime warranty, which is good for dogs who love to chew. They make the clean up so much easier!
There was a time in my life when the sound of birds singing and of children playing on freshly mowed lawns brought a smile to my face. Now, after Wal Mart came and ruined my life, I feel nothing but hatred for the world, except, that is, for my Pace Edwards Jack Rabbit Retractable Tonneau Cover.
Things used to be different. Back when I was in my early thirties, I collected a windfall inheritance from my parents. Rather than blowing that load right away on a Ferrari or a brick of cocaine as my scuzzy neighbor suggested, I invested it in my own company. I opened a small hardware store down in the heart of town. Those were some of the happiest days of my life. I’d wake up to a fresh pot of Folgers, head over to my shop, count nails and arrange the plungers in a fashionable way, eat a sensible lunch, and head home at 6:00 to nuke a Swanson’s and watch the Jeopardy. Yeah, those were the good times. Everyone in town knew my name, and they’d stop in every other day or so to chit-chat and maybe replenish their supply of gopher poison. I felt like I was living in a wholesome Norman Rockwell painting. But fate had some twists and turns for me, and I would have to learn the hard way that heaven doesn’t exist on earth.
About three years ago, the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town was demolished. Up from the ashes of its carcass sprung my nemesis: Wal Mart. Suddenly, no one in town wanted to come into my shop and buy my wares. Apparently, the promise of a quart of paint that costs forty-seven cents less than mine proved too powerful a ploy for the townsfolk. No one seemed to care that the paint they were buying was made from the ground-up bones of child laborers who died from the noxious fumes at the overseas paint factory. I tried engaging in a price war, but they pummeled me on all fronts. In seven months, I was out of business.
Dejected, I consoled myself with hard alcohol and pastries. In no time flat, I had packed on an extra 150 pounds. I hit rock bottom when my wife left me for the Wal Mart warehouse manager. Et tu, Madeline?
Rather than wallowing in self-pity, I realized that I wouldn’t be happy until I had revenge. I needed to jam my fist into the belly of the Wal Beast, rip out its black heart, and bite off a still-beating hunk of the muscle while it stares, gasps and collapses at my American-made shoes. For that kind of mission, though, I knew it would have to be an inside job. So I turned in an application, interviewed with a pimple-faced punk of an assistant manager, and got a job as a cashier. Don’t get me wrong—it’s hard work. I’m only able to take two toilet brakes per shift, and I’ve found myself standing in a puddle of my own asparagus juice many a time, which has only heightened my hatred for the company.
I’m making steady progress in my preparations. I’ve been mapping the air ducts and testing the response time of the security guard who rolls around the parking lot in his dusty Caprice. I even installed a Pace Edwards JackRabbit Retractable Tonneau Cover onto my Ranger’s bed. That way, when the time to strike arrives, I’ll be able to sneak my arsenal to work without anyone catching a glimpse and ratting me out. Plus, I get better fuel mileage, and that’s good for the environment. But not as good as whipping out the Wal Blight that is popping up all over these United States like canker sores on a rock star’s lips.
Not that I will go through with any of these plans but it is good to vent, at least that’s what my therapist told me. And you know what, he’s right. Now I have three things in my life that are good: my Pace Edwards Jack Rabbit with its cool retractable tonneau cover and my therapist, Bill.
Whether you live in the desert or the tundra, having the right auto accessories can make or break your comfort. The following tips from an experienced desert dweller point out the proper auto accessories one needs to dominate the dunes.
Living below sea level, like I do, puts some serious demands on your equipment. First there’s the sun—oh my god the sun. Around here we get over 300 days of blazing sun each year and it rarely dips below 90 in the daylight. Then there’s the wind, relentless and uncaring it whips up from the west. The frenzy of dirt and debris that it carries combines with the blistering sun to turn our days into a sandy blast furnace.
All I can say is that sometimes paradise comes with a price. You see, I’m one of the hardy residents of the famed Salton Sea out in the California desert. After my early retirement from the ACME wire hanger factory in Pasadena, me and the Mrs. decided to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. We heard about this enclave of retirees from some friends in Palm Springs who knew it would be the perfect spot for us.
Avid birdwatchers, the wife were overjoyed to settle in this beautiful little community known as the Salton Sea. Hailed as the “crown jewel of avian biodiversity,” this area was perfect for us. Since it’s smack in the middle of the Pacific flyway, the Salton Sea teams with American white pelicans and other fish-eating birds who stop on these salty shores for little snack. I’m currently writing a comprehensive study of these endangered birds, and the Salton Sea is pelican central.
Each day, we load our camera gear into our Toyota Camry and head out into the desert. Getting to the outskirts of our community is the best way to get some shots of these beautiful birds in action. This is when things get tricky. The temperature around these parts can skyrocket to over 120 degrees in the day and since there are no facilities nearby, we’re required to gear-up for these outings.
The first thing we make sure to take along is our auto Sun Shade. We do of course bring shades for our heads and eyes, but the auto Sun Shade is also a must. When we leave the car for even a few minutes, things tend to heat up quickly. With the Sun Shade, the car’s interior stays nice and cool. Without the shade in the windshield, the car resembles a crematorium more than it does a vehicle.
Another must-have accessory is one of those refrigerators that plug into the lighter. Since we don’t smoke, unlike most Salton Seanites, we just keep that baby plugged in the whole time. That way, after a long, hot hike, we come back to cold beers, sodas and my wife’s famous egg salad. It also makes a nice cool spot to store our film until we get it to the developer.
Once home, the car’s still not out of danger. The trailer coach we live in lacks a garage of course, so I built a makeshift carport from an abandoned Quonset hut I found in the desert. It keeps most of the weather off the car, but I supplement the protection with a quality car cover. When that wicked wind kicks up from the west, the cover keeps my precious Camry snug as a bug.
Those are my tips for easy-livin’, desert-style. My little desert flower and I are loading up the Camry and driving over to the early bird special at Rezac’s in El Centro. In the meantime check here for windshield sun shades and other car accessories designed to make your desert stay all the more pleasant.
I am a city-boy, born and bred. Early on, my parents moved to New York, and while growing up, all I knew were skyscrapers, traffic and noise. I always felt comforted to be surrounded by the masses and I knew anything I would ever want or need would be found close at hand.
When I grew up, the story was much the same. I remained in the Big Apple and got a job in investment banking. Throughout this time laughed at my “hick” friends who chose to move to the Deep South, or to some small Midwestern prairie-town…
One ordinary day at the office, I was working in my cubicle when the boss came down for a visit.
“You boys are doing a great job, and our profits have never been better,” he said. “But ultimately, the key to a well run corporation is the bond between employees. That’s why all of you are going on a ‘back to nature’ trip!”
I groaned.
The management and several departments all flew out to a secluded area in the forest. On the first day of the trip we had to practice falling backwards and into the arms of a co-worker as a trust-building exercise. Later, we put on war-paint and chanted: “Efficiency, Productivity, Profitability” over and over while dancing around a fire. We swung across rivers and ate bugs and listened to motivational pep talks.
I was completely sick of the experience and decided to walk around for a while to clear my head. When everyone was busy I snuck away from the group and went into the woods, despite warnings I had heard about the dreaded Sasquatch.
I wandered around randomly, feeling sorry for myself. I greatly missed my city and my old life with all its pollution, sirens and plumbing. There had to be a way to get out, but how…?
Suddenly I heard an unearthly roar shake the trees.
I looked up and came face to face with the Sasquatch! He looked just like Chewbacca and was covered with mud and twigs. I screamed and turned to run.
“Wait friend,” said the beast, “You have nothing to fear.”
Shocked, I turned and contemplated the hairy monster, which had its arms outstretched and a kind smile on its muzzle.
“You can talk!” I said, amazed. “How can this be?”
“Allow me to explain, good sir,” he said.
It turned out that the Sasquatch was actually a guy named Harold. He had worked for a large corporation, and like me, had been brought out to the woods for a back to nature trip. Somehow he had gotten separated from the group and became hopelessly lost. He had thus begun his new life in the woods, foraging and trying his best to survive. He had also somehow grown a thick fur covering, but I didn’t have the time to question him how.
“So Harold,” I asked, “How come you never left the forest?”
“I tried, but my car wouldn’t start.”
He showed me his battered Chevy. I took a look under the hood and found the problem.
“This is no big deal,” I said, “You just need a few adjustments.”
I helped him with the repairs and soon we were both zooming down the highway, I on my way back to the city, and Harold on the way back to resuming the human experience.
It was nice to do a good deed for my fellow mammal. I’m glad that a few engine parts, car brakes and power slot rotors will assist Harold in transforming back from his animal state.
With all the recent success in the real estate market, one can only imagine where the market will go. I think that the industry may take an interesting turn.
By now every Joe Schmoe knows about the potential of the real estate market. There have been enough television shows, books and stories about flipping houses that the market has become overrun with money hungry people looking to get rich quick. But has anything really changed?
The idea of investing in real estate and properties is nothing new. The potential has always existed, as it always will. The problem is that the actual process of flipping house is much harder than the TV shows let on. Sure, on paper, the concept of purchasing a hidden gem at a great price, slapping on a coat of paint, and reselling for thousands of dollars more sounds great. If only it were that simple.
It’s complicated! The home buying process is a long, complicated, which can fall apart due to numerous factors. Think about it, most people buy one house during their lifetime and spend the next 30 years paying it off. That means the majority of people aren’t versed in housing contracts, mortgages, broker fees, etc. You really need to know what you are doing. If you misread a contract or don’t fully understand the fine print, you could end up dishing out thousands of dollars!
It takes a lot of time! Most people don’t have the luxury of starting off with a lot of investment capital. Most people work full time jobs just to pay for daily expenses. That means they must hunt for houses on breaks, after work and on weekends to find a good deal. Once you find that good deal you need to be able to act quickly. Some houses only stay on the market for a day. Heck, some houses don’t even make it to the market because realtors give their friends first dibs. Then if you’re luckily enough to find a good deal, you’re going to have to contact contractors, realtors, insurance companies, and all the necessary businesses.
It’s expensive! So you think you can understand the process and you have the time, but do you have the money? For a lot of mortgages you need proof of income or proof that you will be able to pay back the bank. If you want to buy at $200,000 home, you will need $20,000 for the down payment. If you can scrounge that much together, you also need money for renovations and money to pay off the mortgage until the house is resold. One more thing – you need credit. So if you happen to come into some money, you still need to have good credit in order to get the loan.
If you’re still interested then go for it. I image this industry can only exist for so long before the payoff isn’t worth it. In addition, there is one key aspect that makes this job so risky – the market. You can’t control the market. You can’t control when and how many homeowners will be selling their houses. What if there is a natural disaster? I live in San Diego and I’m sure the recent wildfires have affected the value of many properties. The houses will probably rise up again, but in the meantime people don’t want to feel like they are in danger.
So where will the market go? Who knows? Maybe people will start flipping trailers.
As for me, I think I’ll check out some Trailer Hitches because I definitely can’t afford to flip a house. My last big purchase was an Edge Evolution programmer.
Some things people do or buy absolutely mystify me. That’s why I created this series of “What’s the Point?” articles, tackling (eventually) all of that which I do not understand. Up next: car bras, an utterly confusing item stretched across the front of many a car on the road today. Read along to understand the stretched vinyl madness.
What’s the point in having a car bra? Enough people swear by the idea that I see the word “LeBra” almost everywhere I drive. I truly cannot digest the concept of having one of these thick vinyl albatrosses stretched across the front of one’s vehicle, whether car, truck, van, SUV or other auto. Sure, there’s always a need to protect your car—that much I get. But, doing it with a car bra just seems to defeat the purpose in a giant way.
First off, I don’t get covering the face of your vehicle like this. Cars aren’t mere transportation—they’re to be admired as works of art, especially when you motor in something as stately as my Buick. The careful crafting, the impressive grille detail and even the enduring logo are all things you definitely want to show off. The face of a vehicle is virtually its entire personality, molded straight from the hearts of a team of engineers over weeks and months and years. And a person would go and cover that with black vinyl? I just don’t get it.
Worse yet, some drivers even go so far as to say they like the look of a car bra; that their vehicle doesn’t look right without one. They detect a bit of sporty effervescence in the look of a bra. This probably ports over from the bra’s origination as a protection device for track-testing Porsche models in Germany about 30-40 years ago. Could it also be that perhaps drivers like having the look of a test mule vehicle, lugging through the searing desert air and dodging spy shot photographers, all to their own? I think this kind of allure or something similar may be their motive.
I get that people find a measure of protection behind a half-inch of synthetic fabric. Plastic parts crack from tossed rocks; paint pits when virtually and debris brazes its surface. Bugs deposit entrails into inconvenient spots. But, unless a driver has a full-body car bra, the same fate will fall on the uncovered portions of their vehicle regardless. No paint is invulnerable. Sure, a car bra can keep your frontal color fresh for a while. But, it won’t fade at the same rate as the rest of the finish. And, dirt and sand trapped beneath the bra (believe me – it happens to all bras) can effectively sandblast the clear-coat layers into a complete haze. That’s right—a car bra can cause the very problem it was meant to solve.
So, to all of those car bra enthusiasts out there, I say you can keep them. A car bra can’t save you from the inevitable, it blocks the beauty of an automobile, and it looks quite shabby regardless of the vehicle it masks. If you follow the regimen required to simultaneously prevent damage with a bra and damage from a bra, it becomes an entire facet of your free time. I’ll stick to proudly showing my big Buick grille. And I’ll continue to get tougher with every stone thrown its way.
California has a unique freeway system. Drivers have to stop at a traffic light before entering the freeway. I drive a Toyota Corolla, which means every trip is a near death experience as I merge into a line of speeding trucks. I bought a performance chip and now I don’t need to bring a change of underwear on my morning commute.
I recently moved to California from the east coast. Although I love the climate change and abundance of beautiful beach babes, I’m not too thrilled about California’s unique freeway system. I can still remember my first experience like it was yesterday; actually it was last week. I had just gotten to California and was headed to the beach to go surfing. So I’m cruising on the 8, about to get onto the 15. I look down at my map to check what exit I want to get off at. I glance back up to see red; the brake lights of cars stopped in front of me. Thank god for ABS. I slammed my brakes and stopped just in time to avoid crashing into a Ford F150. “Great, now I’m going to sit in traffic all day,” I thought. As the line of cars slowly crept forward I could see a light in the distance. Is that a police car? Maybe, it’s an ambulance? When I got closer I could see that the light was actually a traffic light. This was the first time I have ever seen a traffic light on a freeway entrance. I finally reached the light, which turned green for two seconds, and hit the gas. I was giving my Corolla full throttle, but it wasn’t speeding up quick enough. Looking in my rear view mirror, I could see the driver of the BMW behind me mouthing curses. The lane started to approach the highway and I wasn’t going nearly as fast as the flow of traffic. Apparently, California drivers have lead-foot syndrome. My lane was merging and truck in the lane next to me that was going at least 30mphs faster than me had to slam on his brakes. The driver thought it wouldn’t be enough to just curse, so I had a great view of his middle finger when he switched lanes and blew past me. Now I’m not a slow driver, but let’s face it, a Corolla isn’t a race car. I ended up making it to the beach in one piece, but I needed to find a solution if I was going to be taking the freeway to work everyday.
I talked to my brother-in-law, who is a mechanic, about my problem. Basically, he gave me two options. I could either buy a new car or make my car faster. I definitely was not ready to buy a new car, especially with all my moving bills. And the last thing I wanted was to be driving around a “rice rocket” or anything that looked like it came from the Fast and the Furious. He suggested adding a performance chip. He had installed a few recently and said that they fine-tune your engine to increase performance. The result is a boost in horsepower, which means some lickety-split acceleration for me.
My brother-in-law suggested getting an Edge Evolution or SCT livewire performance programmer. I ending up going with the Edge Evolution and have seen a big improvement in my car’s pick up. Phew! Eat my dust trucks…Or at least don’t run me over.
One of my head lights went out the other day when I was driving home from work and with my luck, a cop pulled me over and now I need to go to inspection. I think a trip to the DMV is considered torture in some cultures.
This past week I had to take my car in for inspection. Not only did I get to take time out of my weekend, I sat in long lines and had to deal with the lovely people at the DMV. Don’t worry, the fun keeps coming. First, I should probably give you the setting. It was a humid summer day. The type of day when breathing is enough exercise to make you sweat bullets. The only way to escape the heat would be to float in a pool and last time I checked the DMV was the farthest thing from Typhoon Lagoon.
Reluctantly, I got in my car, bit the bullet, and headed towards hell. I cranked my air on full blast, put on some tunes, and actually started to think that it might not be so bad. I spoke too soon. I couldn’t even pull into the parking lot because the line was so long; cars protruding into the street. I rolled down my window and peered down the seemingly endless line of vehicles. I was looking at over an hour wait. My only salvation was the big gulp sitting next to me in my cup holder. I know I needed to stay hydrated, but in the midst of my anger I forgot about my lack of bathroom access. It probably wasn’t a good idea to suck down 72 ounces of Blueberry Blast icy. Then, as I’m waiting, I see some cars try and cut the line. I thought I was going to lose it. Did they think they could cruise right in and skip the wait? Over my dead body. As one car tried to merge in front of me, I stuck like glue to the bumper in front of me, glaring into the eyes of the driver. He backed off. No one was skipping this line. So in addition to the scorching heat, blaring bass from nearby cars, and my pulsating bladder dancing with every bass line, I now needed to guard my spot in line. Is this really my life?
After 1 hour, 23 minutes, and 17 seconds I made it to the front of the line. I had finally made it, face to face with the devil himself, who happened to be a short, portly man donning a nametag that said Larry. “Listen Larry, you’re not fooling me. I know Larry is short for Lucifer,” I thought to myself. The combination of icy and pure rage filtered through my veins. I watched him as he inspected my car. Silently letting my mind wonder about how easily I could “off him,” toss him in the trunk, and never have to deal with the DMV ever again. I could then begin the renegade life of an outlaw, doing as I pleased, not conforming to societal constraints… “Okay, your good to go,” Larry said. I shook my head as I snapped out of my homicidal hallucination. I smiled, thanked him, and pulled out of the garage. Well, that wasn’t so bad.
I had replaced my fog lights and also bought some good PIAA lights before my inspection. I wasn’t taking any chances because if my car didn’t pass inspection, I think I might have lost it.
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