Gullwing Grief - Hairdryer to the Rescue

People are undeniably seduced by gullwing doors, whether they're on a lowly DeLorean or the supreme Mercedes SLS.

DeLorean doors, powered by a Grumman-aerospace torsion bar plus a strut, want to rise upward by nature. The only thing holding them down are the latches. And my latches are worn out. In the cold they don't catch and the doors launch upward.

Since I can't drive the car in the cold specifically because of this problem, I decided to have DMC Midwest replace my latches. I made all the arrangements, ordered parts, booked hotels and even plane flights.

But the ONE day I have to drive to Crystal Lake, Illinois is a terribly cold day sandwiched between all the nice the weather. And the main reason I'm going, ironically, is so the Swingles can replace my latches that don't work in the cold! This means that on my nine hour drive I would not be able stop. Not to eat, pee or even get gas.

Now here's the absurd part. In addition to these woes, my driver's window is broken and stuck in the up position. This means I have to open my door every time I pay a toll or talk to the border guards. But once my door is open, my goose is cooked.

Solution: A one thousand eight hundred and seventy-five watt hairdryer. To make this work I bought a super-badass 2000 watt inverter for $199. I attached appropriate cables, clamped it to my battery, and plugged in the purple hairdryer.

As ridiculous as this sounds, it works. Now I'm thinking of bringing my 1000 watt microwave too. After all, what's a road trip without burritos!?

Toronto St. Patrick's Day Parade 2013

Tomorrow Toronto will hold their 26th annual St. Patrick's Day parade - and they'll be short one DeLorean. I won't be able to attend thanks to the number 114,000 and, ironically, to the colour green.

In the DeLorean world, surpassing 100,000 miles is uncommon. These are collector cars, and have been since the company went bankrupt. Sometime around 1983 people started squirrelling away their DMC-12s, some thinking it would skyrocket in value, others because parts were sometimes difficult to acquire. Mileage, generally, remained very low as the cars were rarely driven.

My DeLorean has 114,000 miles on the clock, which is relatively high. With that much use, things wear out. The novelty of the car is, for me at least, its achilles heel: My gullwing doors aren't working. The problem lies in the worn-out door latches. In the cold they do not catch and the doors pop back open.

As glorious as it would be, I can't drive down the highway in full gullwing mode, Huey Lewis blasting on the tape deck, my ascot blowing in the wind, giving all a rockin' thumbs up.

The Swingles, at DMC Midwest, will be giving me some worn out latch action in April, and while there, I will ask them about the all-aluminum rad from the DeLorean Motor Company and the Toby Peterson Wings-B-Cool cooling fans.

What does this mean? Short of a snow storm, I will be there again next year to help Toronto celebrate St. Patrick's Day!
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See Toronto St. Patrick's Day Parade 2012

Literal Shitty Taxes

I'M A MILLIONAIRE! Oh wait, that's a complete lie. Nevermind. I guess I'll start blogging again just as soon as I get my taxes out of the way.

Yeah, tax season. Fun stuff right? It is! When you know you're getting a refund, anyway. But what about when you have two very old cats? And what if those poor, wretched old jerks decided to barf and shit on everything you own? And what if that included all your tax documents?

Excrementy and vomity paperwork is difficult enough to deal with, but it's especially embarrassing when you have to give it all to your accountant. You know, because it's TAX SEASON.

How do you explain the brown smears to her? You can't just let her touch it... can you? And you certainly can't wash it off. Have you ever tried to wash paper? I'll let you in on a little secret. It doesn't work.

Okay, so there are two options. Option one is to keep your mouth shut and let her touch the number 2. Did I forget to mention it's not ordinary cat crap? No, kitty was having a bad day when she smeared her extraordinarily raunchy ass on our paperwork. This is the pinnacle of abominable bowel movements - diarrhea.

Despite the fact that my accountant is my cousin, and even though she herself has a number of cats and horses, that option just plain sucks. So I settled on option two. I took a pair of scissors and literally cut the brown spots out. Yup, it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "Cut that shit out!"