DMC & ME

Auchentoshan Three Wood Single Malt Scotch

2012-02-21T20:08:00.002-05:00

Whisky is expensive. And the longer it sits in barrels or casks, the more expensive it gets. You're not really paying for the sweet liquid inside, but rather time. As they say, time is money. Think of it as renting space to store something until you're ready to get it. You're also paying for the expertise of the Master Distiller as he nurtures it over those years.

In Canada whiskies get even MORE expensive when the "free healthcare" taxes are included. So, when one has fallen in love with it like I have, one has to make very wise purchasing decisions. No one wants to get stuck with a $100 bottle they don't like. Thankfully there are people like Ryan at Value Whisky Reviews to help. And there's more help at the LCBO. Every 30 days they put their juice on sale, but the savings are typically not much more than $1.50 a bottle. If you're lucky, you'll save $5, and if you've got horseshoes up your ass, it might be $10.

I loved my Auchentoshan 12 y.o. so much that I was willing to take a chance and buy the Auchentoshan Three Wood at full price. It is the only other Auchentoshan available in Ontario and I was dying to try another triple distilled scotch. Did the LCBO's devious little plan work? You bet. Full price: $77.

Three Wood is special in that it has been matured in three different casks. First it spends an entire decade in ex-bourbon casks, then a year in ex-Oloroso sherry casks and finally, finished for 1 year in ex-Pedro Ximenez sherry casks.

The sherry gives the Three Wood a deep bronze colour, and more. The nose made my mind race, searching through file after file of scent memories, trying to find a match. Wood, butterscotch and grapes, and maybe more. It seems similar to the 12 year old only amped up and fruitier.

The taste is very much influenced by the sherry casks. It's an amazingly rich mix of dark fruit and sweetness. Mulberries, grapes, maybe a hint of tobacco and toffee, followed by the same tiny punch of smoke as the 12 year. No, a bit more smoke. Just perfect.

The finish is dry thanks to the sherry casks, a bit grassy, fruity and long. It's not very strong, just perfect. Again, it's similar to the 12 year, only drier and smokier. Even after brushing my teeth I was able to taste it! The finish really is fantastic.

After my first drink I was in love. To me, this is worth a bit of a premium over the regular 12 year. It's like paying extra for a DeLorean... because it has the gas flap hood! Huzzah!

LCBO: $77
750ml
43% (86 proof)

www.auchentoshan.com

Wild Turkey American Honey

2012-02-14T19:55:00.000-05:00

I've been drinking Southern Comfort since I was a wee child. It is still one of the staples in my house, but in recent years I had become bored with it. About the only thing I hadn't mixed it with, was milk. Scratch that. Just tried it. Don't do it.

And so, on a Vegas vacation a few years back, I found myself shopping at a grocery store in Henderson with my friends. While they shopped for nutritious things to sustain us, I took a detour into alcohol alley. I asked one of the employees if there was a bourbon-style drink that was sweet like Southern Comfort yet not quite as sweet. I wanted something more bourbony. One of the suggestions he made was Wild Turkey American Honey.

That sounded great to me, and I admit since it was not available in Canada, the cool factor (read: "I have something you don't, nya nya!") played into it a little too. I bought a 750ml bottle for the equivalent of $26 Cdn.

American Honey is Wild Turkey bourbon mixed with real honey. And the nose doesn't lie. I smell bee barf, nectar, a strong sweet citrus, and something bitter like orange peel.

The taste is just a tad different. The light golden sunshine liqueur is hugely sweet, but not like Southern Comfort. It almost has a candy-like sweetness to it, honey, a faint bourbon quality and fleeting citrus.

The finish is sweet and dry, I still taste honey and something else. Something weird. Kiwi?

The honey overpowers the bourbon, but not entirely. And because of its versatility, it's pretty great. Bourbon and Scotch drinkers won't want to drink this neat, but if you're new to this it is a very good place to ease into your whisky sipping journey. And it's even perfect for mixing, adding a sweet corny honey taste to cola or root beer, and probably ginger ale and milk too. Yes, super sweet American Honey is perfect for the bourbon wuss.

NV grocery store: $26
750ml
35.5% (71 proof)

www.wildturkey.com
www.americanhoney.com

Maker's Mark Kentucky Straight Bourbon

2012-02-08T23:58:00.002-05:00

I'm back again, polluting the internet with my amateur whisky reviews. While my posts aren't ill-conceived, the notion that I know whisky probably is. However, whisky is a very personal thing.

Reading reviews I find I'm sometimes baffled by the elaborate or curious descriptions given. Chocolate? Creme brulee? Baked goods? In whisky? Well, sure. And I probably smell things that other people don't too. It's just how your brain interprets the scent.

On my way home from Costa Rica, which smells like bananas and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, I made a pit stop at the airport's mega-tiny Duty Free. When I say small, I mean it. I've been in bathroom stalls bigger than this place.

The store was so small, I was not able to shop. I had to get in line and shuffle along as the line moved forward, viewing what was on the shelves as I passed them. After about 10 minutes, I saw the very last 750ml bottle of Maker's Mark and grabbed it. Duty Free price: $26.

By most accounts Maker's Mark Straight Kentucky Bourbon is aged between 6 and 7 years. The rich orangey amber bourbon is a "small batch" whisky which means each batch is made from 20 or less barrels.

When I peeled the trademark red wax off the top and poured it, the nose wasn't what I expected: Thick wood, almonds, a hint of spice, and alcohol. But it was all fairly muted. I tried many times, but found it difficult to get a smell of something good and solid.

The taste was much better yet still simple. Caramel, vanilla, pepper and Portuguese cork notepad. Wha??? Yeah, I also noted a very odd flavour - it tastes the way my Portuguese cork notepad smells; kind of musty, but not in a bad way.

The finish was spicy and peppery, which is strange because there's no rye in this bourbon. I'm not sure where the taste comes from, but it's very distinct and strong.

Overall, I didn't like this one as much as I thought I would. I guess the hype this brand has built up around itself backfired. I discussed this with a coworker and he convinced me to give it another chance. But over and over again, there was something about it I didn't love. It really threw me. So I decided to *gasp* try mixing it.

I made two of my favourite drinks, the first using Retro Pepsi, the second using Rootbeer. The Maker's Mark added a creamy vanilla flavour to each one, making them THE best Pepsi & bourbon and Rootbeer & bourbon I've ever had. They were so fantastic in fact, that I will happily sin again. If you think I'm a monster, leave me a comment and let me know!

Duty Free: $26
750ml
45% (90 proof)

www.makersmark.com

Four Roses Kentucky Straight Bourbon

2012-01-31T23:04:00.000-05:00

In my first house, one day, I suddenly became aware of a gas leak. I called our gas company who sent a man to our house with some sort of portable gas detection tricorder. I showed him where I could smell the gas and he pointed his tricorder around until he found the leak.

"You can SMELL that?" he asked incredulously. The leak was so small, he said, it was nearly undetectable by his tricorder. So you'd THINK I have a good lil sniffer, eh? Not really. And what does smelling gas have to do with whisky? The 'nose' (sniffing the scents of the dram) is half the experience! But just because my shnoz is good for gas doesn't mean anything in the whisky world.

Today I'm taking a step backwards from my Auchentoshan review and talking about Four Roses Kentucky Straight Bourbon. If you read that rookie whisky review, which you most certainly didn't based on the staggering number of comments, you'll already know that I don't know what I'm doing and you're about half way through a big ol' mess.

Preferring to spend as little as possible without leaving my country or robbing any old grannies, I had a friend snag me a 750ml bottle of Four Roses bourbon at his LCBO at significant savings. Sale price: $23.

Four Roses has recently returned to Canada from a decades-long vacation, so I was excited to try the medium copper coloured bourbon back to back with my others. Opening the bottle, I was intoxicated by the aroma, which was primarily of sweet cedar mixed with a slight sherry note. After a time I could detect flowers too - but what kind? I dunno. White ones.

The taste was very similar: strong wood, floral, honey. Sweet on the tip of my tongue, then got hotter as it moved back. It finished with more barrel wood, a little sweet & spicy.

If you love the smell of fresh cut wood (who doesn't?), this might be a super bourbon for you. It's like a bunch of beardy lumberjacks bottled sweet Alpine forest just for you. Thank you lumberjacks! I'm going to have another. And maybe grow a beard.

LCBO clearance: $23
750ml
40% (80 proof)

www.fourroses.us

Auchentoshan 12 year Single Malt Scotch

2012-01-24T21:56:00.001-05:00

In his prime, John DeLorean was featured in Cutty Sark scotch ads just before his company began the downward spiral that ended in bankruptcy. While his DMC-12 is not new to me, whisky is. I don't know exactly how to properly taste it, and I definitely don't know how to review it. It feels a bit fancy. And sometimes it's nice to feel fancy. Some guys like to wear women's panties, some smoke Cuban cigars, and others enjoy a dram.

A few years ago a neighbour gave me a bottle of Glenfiddich 12 year for Christmas. It was the most vile thing I'd ever tasted and I decided right then that I didn't like whisky. Over the next few years I had the occasional bourbon... and liked it. In 2010 I toured Kentucky's Buffalo Trace distillery with my car club and had a tasting there. "Mmmm!" I thought, which led to continued bourbon drinking at Halloween, Christmas, and weekend parties.

Like I said, this is new to me. My drink of choice was always gin. But whisky is a whole other animal, and I've discovered how much I like both scotch and bourbon. Should those words be capitalized? I don't even know.

The other day I went to my local LCBO. Once a month or so they put various items on sale. I scanned the aisles and decided on a bottle of Auchentoshan (Oken-toshen) 12 year single malt scotch. Sale price: $48.

It is presented in a nice silver box, which I suppose also protects it from the sun, the only triple-distilled scotch in the world. It's a medium amber colour, and without knowing the proper way to describe it or reading other people's reviews, that's the best I can do.

When I opened the bottle I was shocked at the varying and subtle smells. Old wood, green apple, orange peels, a slight toffee scent. Amazing! I went back again. There's more there, but I don't have the experience to discern the nuances.

The taste was laid-back and soft. It was sweet on the tip of my tongue. Wood, caramel, charcoal, green apple, and finally a tiny punch of smoke. There was a very slight bite as I swallowed, then slowly that apple returned. This time with a bit of spiciness. The finish was mellow and long with a delicious smokey flavour too subtle for me to distinguish.

This bottle makes me excited. It is going to be fun playing "guess the flavours" over the next few months as I learn.

LCBO sale: $48
750ml
40% (80 proof)

www.auchentoshan.com
www.buffalotrace.com

DeLorean Door Adjustment

2012-01-13T20:45:00.011-05:00

Arguably the most recognizable feature of the DeLorean is its super glammy gullwing doors. Of the handful of manufacturers who have produced gullwing doors, the DeLorean's (aside from the new Mercedes SLS) are generally accepted as the most reliable.

First, a cryogenically set torsion bar designed & manufactured by Grumman Aerospace "untwists" and begins to lift the door. As its limited power runs out a standard strut takes over and lifts the door the rest of the way in an uninterrupted & sexy manner.

At the factory the early cars, such as mine, had door alignment problems. Sometimes the doors would not close properly, or only one latch would catch as there were no door guides. My car has the early stainless steel quality control guides and I've always had to slam my doors. In the winter the rear latches catching were dependent on temperature. The colder it was, the less chance they'd have of catching. I decided to fix them.

I carried my toolbox into my garage and opened the driver's door to reveal the bolt. The black paint on the bolt and washer were quite worn. It was clear that my door had been adjusted before.

Using a 17mm wrench I loosened the nut around the latch bolt about 3/4's of a turn. This allowed me to move it around within a small area. It is attached to a larger plate on the other side. I wasn't sure if that rear plate would fall off, but the design wouldn't make sense if it did. So I chanced it... and the plate stayed put.

I moved the door pin around then slowly closed my door over and over, carefully watching the latch as it swallowed up the bolt. After about 10 minutes of fiddling, I had the bolt in the perfect position and tightened it up.

Had I known it was this simple, I would've done it years ago.

I shut the door repeatedly, very happy with the results. I no longer have to slam my driver's door, and the door panel is aligned perfectly with the body! Unfortunately, I could not seem to figure out the passenger door, so maybe it's not that simple after all.

Insight Battery Cable Conundrum

2011-11-19T22:17:00.005-05:00

I don't particularly like how Dealerships cater to our generation's NAME-BRAND ONLY attitude. Maybe we as customers have driven them to that. Maybe not. Regardless, it seems to me that Dealerships treat our cars as disposable sources of constant income via replacement - never worthy of being updated or modified. If it's 4 years old, it's outdated like a computer and time for a trade-in.

I've found my usual Honda Dealership to be very closed minded when it comes to car repairs. If it's not an official Honda part or something alters the original design specs, they will refuse to work on it - even if it's their own fault.

My Dealership could only get the 151R Honda FIT battery for my Insight instead of the normal 151. Because the terminals were reversed, the negative battery cable would not reach. But my Dealership refused to extend the cable the measly 3 inches to reach the battery. They said, "we will not modify the original design of the car." Two weeks later they sent me something in the mail asking me to trade in my Insight!

Since my family works at the dealership I was really surprised at this attitude. I did not want a new car. I just wanted the cable lengthened! But every single mechanic/tech refused to add a longer cable. When pressed, they said I might be able to get an independent garage to do the work, but I was looking at 3 hours of labour.

No. That's not a typo.

The Honda Dealership estimated THREE HOURS of labour to unbolt the 6 inch cable, then bolt a 9 inch cable in its place. Are you laughing? You should be. I can't make this stuff up.

Thankfully my regular mechanic is a tad more logical and intelligent. He's the kind of guy who can tell you the most boring story about some random bolt, and make it so exciting that you can't wait to rush home and tell all your friends about this boring random bolt. And it's nice he can take time away from 7 and 8 second drag cars to do an uninspired job like this. He had a new cable fitted and installed in 15 minutes... including driving the car into the bay.

So, I will let you all know if the car burns to the ground because of the extended ground cable. And if you take a shower one morning and find "the dealer was right!" scrawled across your foggy bathroom mirror, you'll know I was in the car when it happened.

Stupid Honda's Stupid 151R Battery

2011-11-07T17:40:00.009-05:00

Although this blog is supposed to primarily focus on the DeLorean and I've gotten much better at that lately, I sometimes still write about my other cars. Or candy. Or Halloween. I hope you're not bored.

Our Insight is a 1st generation American model with the CVT transmission which we purchased new in Ohio. As far as I know we still have the only automatic Insight in Canada. Boo-urns? You'd think so but no, just plain Booooo!

After 5 years, the 12 volt lead-acid battery finally decided to call it quits. Despite the big ol' 144 volt pack in the back, the Insight cannot run without the 12v battery. Much like Renee Zellweger, it completes me... Err, the car. It completes a circuit. In the car. I am NOT Tom Cruise, do not send me fan mail.

The original and very sexy 12v battery was supplied by Furukawa Battery Co. While it still functions (holds a charge), it has begun leaking CRAZYSTYLE into the engine compartment. I removed a sticker across the top which read Maintenance Free. Beneath it were six plugs which I removed. I added distilled water and charged the battery but to no avail. Furukawa's "Hi Dash" continued to leak like a paper roof.

Thankfully I have family working at a Honda Dealership, and attempted to order a new battery. (I say attempted because Honda is stupid. Yeah, I've resorted to school-yard name-calling. Stupid Honda.)

Official Honda Dealer battery documents state the Canadian Insight and Civic share a battery. A full size battery. Unfortunately, our U.S. spec Insight has a tiny aluminum enclosure meant for a tiny battery. The dimensions are 7"L x 4-3/4"W x 8"H. This, according to Honda, is a 151 series battery. 151r means the positive and negative terminals are reversed from the normal position.

Honda sold me a Honda FIT battery, as it was the only battery that would fit (pun not intended) the Insight's tiny aluminum enclosure. Unfortunately, it was the 151R, not the 151. The positive terminal is in the opposite corner and the cables do not have enough reach, regardless of which way the battery is rotated.

As a last resort I've located a man who can, at $65/hr, rebuild my Furukawa. He is reluctant to do it, but if I can convince him, it sure beats driving across the border for something as simple as a battery!

Halloween Candy Oscars 2011

2011-10-21T22:11:00.007-04:00

Halloween is amazing. It's the only time of year when parents turn the other cheek and allow their kids to take candy from strangers. And when you're taking a chance like that, make sure you get the BEST candy. So just what is the best Halloween candy for 2011?

Last year the Halloween Candy Oscars suffered because the Halloween candy niche has been severely neglected by confectionery companies. Halloween seems to cycle, and lately it has not been popular. The proof is in the pudding... er... candy, as it were.

This year I struggled to come up with solid Halloween-themed competitors in any category. I found one chocolate. I found one gummy. I found zero lollies. And I only found Spooky Eyes and Pumpkin Faces gumballs in bulk. It was atrocious.

Candy companies are simply not interested in putting a quality Halloween candy on the market. For the big guys, it's cheaper to manufacture tiny useless versions of their full sized candy or chocolate. For the niche market players, it's simply cheaper not to compete at all. And when that happens, all teh childrenz lose out. Won't somebody think of teh childrenz?!

However, Frankford has once again come forth with an awesome assortment of bloodcurdling body parts. Every year Frankford impresses, but there have been BIG changes in 2011 and not all are for the better. The biggest difference you will notice is the packaging. Gone is the beautifully designed, creeptacular coffin container. I was only able to find a bag of body parts, which states there are 7 different gruesome candies.

On the upside, there is a new, fantastically delicious body part. Teeth! Okay, some of you astute readers or candy connoisseurs will remember that Frankford used to have gummy fangs. Well, the gummy fangs have gone to the candy graveyard. They've been updated with hard candy teeth. Teeth so bone-crunchingly good they give me shivers. Trust me when I tell you they crunch pretty damn accurately. (I've chewed a real human tooth before, yeah.)

But to every upside there's a downside. Just like the dreadfully demonic downsizing episode of 2007, it looks as though Frankford shrunk their gummies again. At this point, they can't really get much smaller without becoming stupid-looking, so I'm not worried this trend will continue. In fact, I predict in the near future, a bloody heart will be their next addition.

The gory popped-out eyes, bleeding foot, ripped-off nose, bloody finger, oozing ear and scooped-out brain remain as delicious as ever. However, I did find a lot less of them in the bag, which is supposed to contain 45 individually wrapped body parts. As usual, I had to count to make sure.

The bag contents breaks down like this:
26 teeth (each containing 5 crunchy teeth)
10 brains
3 ears
3 fingers
3 eyeballs
2 feet
2 noses

If you added that up, you'll notice what I noticed too: A four-body-part BONUS! A second bag of body parts yielded almost identical results.

This year all those rotten candy companies who bailed on teh childrenz sure made my job easier. 2011's Halloween Candy Oscar for best Halloween candy goes to Frankford, hands down, for their gruesome Body Parts.

Halloween Candy Oscars 2009
Halloween Candy Oscars 2008

How Much HP Does a DeLorean Make?

2011-10-11T23:27:00.033-04:00

How much hp does a DeLorean make at the wheels? Let's find out!

DeLoreans look exotic, but their powerplant is anything but. The 174 cubic inch PRV V6 was very common in Europe... about 3 decades ago. It's rated at 130 hp. But how much hp does a DeLorean make at the wheels?

Horsepower at the wheels is less than what the engine actually makes. Things like the alternator, transmission, and wheels all require power to turn them. Power at the wheels tells you how much power you've actually got, in real life, to move the car.

So how much power DOES the DeLorean make at the wheels? Using my ultra scouring skills I've scoured the internet in search of the answer. There's a lot of speculation, people stating what it SHOULD make, and results of many modified DeLoreans. But I've never found documented, accurate numbers for a stock (unmodified) car. Bob Brandes dyno'd a couple of cars, but the graph is difficult to read. Even Tamir, internet-famous for his superb DeLorean website only posted an unusually round number for an automatic, and offers no dyno graph.

In newsgroups and forums, people have stated that a well-maintained 5-speed manual transmission DeLorean will make anywhere from
95 to 100 hp at the wheels. Some say 90 is more likely. Most agree an automatic will make somewhere in the mid 80s.

My goal was to hit 100 hp, ohh that magical number!

I took my DMC-12 to a mechanic I've trusted for a decade. He uses a Dynojet dynamometer. The rear wheels sit on two huge rollers that weigh 5,500 lbs. and the car is strapped down so it can't move.

My engine: 100% stock and 112,400 miles. My air intake: 100% stock. My filter: dirty. My exhaust: 99% stock. The only difference is that it is ceramic coated to keep the heat out of the engine bay and away from the air intake. My tires, unfortunately are larger than stock. They are 245/60R15 which means they weigh more. From my mechanic's experience with dyno-ing the same car with different sets of tires, he estimates I lost about 2 hp with the heavier tires.

So, how much power did my DeLorean make? We tested the car in 4th gear and made 4 runs on the dyno. All the runs were very consistent, almost identical actually. Maximum horsepower was 98.4 @ 4700-5100 rpm. Maximum torque was 131.6 @ 2100 to 2300 rpm. So close!

Then we did something else. My pal Ken, the one with the Time Machine DeLorean, let me borrow his cold air intake with a filthy K&N filter. The intake looks almost stock, except it's missing the box where the hot air stove pipe attaches.

And how much power did I make with the cold air intake? Maximum hp jumped by six! I made 104.3 @ 4800-5200 rpm. Maximum torque was 132.6 @ 2400-2800 rpm.

So now you know how much power a 5-speed DeLorean will make with the stock air intake and exhaust, and with the cold air intake set up. Click here to see the dyno chart & details up close.

The DeLorean: Girls Get It.

2011-10-02T21:20:00.018-04:00

"What we are trying to show is... a car that is very attractive, very fuel efficient, handles like maybe very few other cars built in the world and is fun to drive." - John DeLorean

The DMC-12 was never meant to be fast. I find it highly amusing that people thought, and continue to think, that it was a failure because it wasn't fast. The DeLorean Motor Company failed for a complex set of reasons that had more to do with the price of bananas than how much power the engine had.

Official literature states the Renault-built PRV V6 makes 130 hp and 162 lb-ft of torque before le emissions equipment and accessories come into play. With only 2712 lbs to throw around, it's quick. No, it won't blow your chausettes off, but John was right - it is tres fun to drive!

Wheels magazine tested the 0-60 mph at a hair over 8 seconds. Car and Driver, a little worse at 9.5 seconds (and the Corvette at 7.2). Not bad for a car whose purpose was fuel efficiency during a time when emissions controls choked every new car. A car that gets 29 mpg U.S. highway. Far more awesome mileage than some new cars today. 2011 Cadillac *cough*

Comparing apples to apples is always prudent. Even today, the mystique of the DeLorean lives on tempting pansy-balled spewbags to race it against brand new 265 hp minivans. Have you seen The Car Show? SPOILER ALERT... oh wait, no it isn't. Of course the Sienna is faster. It has THIRTY more years of technology and more than double the horsepower. Nobody compares their iMac to an Apple II. No one would respect them. Yet somehow, brainless douchbaggery lives on in the car world.

The Urban Dictionary has an entry: "DeLorean-slow". Well, the Urban Dictionary can bite my ass (which has touched Michael J. Fox's ass I might add). The DeLorean was never meant to be fast.

Oddly enough, I've been asked that question twice in less than a week. But it's not about the speed. It's the style. Two girls I met on Wednesday put it best. "It's the cool factor!"

"Exactly!" I replied. At least somebody gets it.

DeLorean Time Machine

2011-09-29T22:03:00.010-04:00

"Back To The Future" celebrated its 25th anniversary last year, and DeLorean hype had never been higher. My friend Ken rode that wave all year. You see, Ken has a Time Machine!

His 95% screen-accurate Back to the Future Time Machine was featured in magazines, newspapers, and a Spike TV commercial "copy" of a 1980s BTTF teaser commercial. It was re-shot scene-for-scene to duplicate the original. View it here. It is impressive. I kid you not.

A couple of weeks ago I was supposed to accompany Ken, and the rest of the gang to a car show. However, my DeLorean was having a spa day at DPI and couldn't make it. So Ken gave me the honour and privilege of taking his Time Machine! A Time Machine that Michael J. Fox sat in. Yes, our butts have touched.

If you think driving a Time Machine is all fun and games, well, you'd be right. But you'd also be wrong. Oh yes. Very, very wrong. Why? Not only do you have to negotiate rabid fans all the while waving and smiling to them, but you have to shift gears, steer, and avoid peeping toms falling out of trees. It's tough!

To make things worse (for driving, not for being awesome, let's get that straight) the car is absolutely FULL of stuff. Hoverboards, Sports almanacs and various sunglasses crowd you. If you dig around, you may even find ol' Einstein hiding in there somewhere. The car is AMAZING. The details are superb. People rushed the car and dozens of kids thought it was the actual movie car.

When I say the car is screen-accurate, what I mean is that it matches the DeLorean used in the Back to the Future films almost exactly. And movie cars weren't exactly made to be driven. They were made to look cool. And "cool" comes at a price. Most notably, the time circuits. Those pesky time circuits and keypad block the heating & cooling controls, and make shifting really annoying. Especially with the ON lever for the time circuits so close. I bumped that lever so many times... I know exactly how Marty accidentally turned them on escaping the Libyans.

But it's all worth it. The car is unbelievable. And when that flux capacitor is fluxing, everything is instantly 200% more awesome. It always draws a huge crowd, and that's what Ken is hoping for. Because the car is for hire. No, I'm not kidding around. If you would like to rent it, visit www.timemachineforhire.com. Proceeds to go Team Fox, the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research.

Ceramic Coated DeLorean Exhaust

2011-09-25T21:10:00.012-04:00

"Should we pull over the DeLorean?" an officer asked his coworkers as I passed through a roadblock at the Canada/U.S. border. Just before the border guards the highway had been narrowed to a single lane by Sheriff's cars, a truck, and a dozen officers. But after a harrowing drive through a nasty storm, I arrived home with a slightly refurbished DeLorean.

And just in time for my cousin's wedding.

Unfortunately for me, the previous owner did not know how to take care of the DeLorean and fibbed extensively about its condition.

Sadly, mechanics with working knowledge of the Bosch K-Jetronic fuel system are either retired or, in most cases, dead. My voodoo skills aren't up to par yet, so raising them wasn't an option. Zombie mechanics are unreliable anyway, with limbs falling off mid-accumulator job, or eyes oozing out of their sockets into the gas tank. Forget it.

And so Josh, owner of DeLorean Performance Industries, was the chosen priest to exorcise the DeLorean's demons. The first gremlin to be eliminated was the fuel distributor, followed by a warm up regulator, a full throttle microswitch and 8,172 gaskets, o-rings and washers. The previous owner bypassed the idle speed ECU when it failed, along with the Lambda system, both of which were restored to original condition.

Josh also replaced the clutch, leaking master and slave cylinders, reservoir, and upgraded the plastic clutch line with the braided stainless steel line. Not everything went as planned and Josh didn't finish some of the work. But he's in demand. I'll take what I can get.

Finally, the ass end of the car received a sweet upgrade. Something I've been planning a long time.

Over the years I've driven a number of DeLoreans with various exhausts. I found anything with headers to be far too sexy for me. Plus it has a bad horsepower to volume ratio: I don't think the extra 7 to 10 hp is worth the extra decibels. I prefer the sweet Euro exhaust note and decided on a completely stock system, but with one bonus. I had it ceramic coated in polished silver.

Ceramic coating the exhaust has a number of benefits. It traps the heat in the system, keeping the engine bay cooler. A cooler bay means cooler intake temperatures with higher oxygen content. And hotter air flows faster out of the exhaust, leading to lower backpressure and better scavenging inside the cylinders. The result is a documented 2% to 3% more power. In my case that conservatively translates to about 2 more hp. Not to mention it's effing gorgeous!

------
See what the exhaust looks like from behind.
The driver's side cast iron exhaust manifold with ceramic coating.

Photos open in a new window.

Ono Kiawe Charcoal - Oh No!

2011-09-15T21:10:00.006-04:00

Back in July I promised a review of Ono Kiawe Hawaiian charcoal. Well here it is. And when you've finished reading, hate it. Hate it as much as I do.

You know you're off to a bad start when three quarters of the charcoal is so massive, it's unusable. The Ono charcoal cannot be poured into your grill. Well, it can, but it won't burn. So don't waste your time. Grilling with Ono Kiawe charcoal requires one extra unorthodox grilling tool: a freakin' hammer.

I thought the first large branch was just a fluke, as I smashed it into more usable bits. It was kinda fun at first. I guess. Then it grew tiresome as I continuously pulled useless monstrosities from the bag day after day.

If that were the only problem with the Ono Kiawe charcoal, I could live with it. But it's not.

Popping and sparking charcoal is crappy. TRES crappy. You don't want sparks popping into your food. Ok, I'm sure there's one guy out there going "Yes I do you dick!" Well, ok fine. You're right. Go buy some Ono Kiawe dude! It's the best!

When I lit the Ono charcoal, it popped and sparked until the end of time. Yes, I'm writing this from the future (thanks, DeLorean!) and it's still popping and sparking. (And this season's Survivor is being played on Mars.)

Finally, and this is just a personal thingy here, I found the smell and taste a little too strong. I felt like it overpowered the food. Some people might love it. It definitely has a distinct flavour.

These are pretty big problems in my opinion. Then again, money talks! Nearly any problem can be overlooked if the price is right. So how much did I pay? Guesses? I think I heard five bucks! I wish. A 20 lb. bag cost me about $30 with tax. At that price the problems are unforgivable. Thirty dollars is the price a of a premium charcoal. A charcoal that shouldn't have any problems.

The only way this charcoal could be improved is if Jesus descended from the ashy skies above my grill and, like, kissed it or some junk. Unless you've tried everything else and are simply curious, avoid it. Avoid it like the plague. If a mass riot broke out tomorrow, (which is possible, I'm in Canada after all) I wouldn't even steal a bag.

Joe Cool Fan Relay Failure

2011-09-09T20:46:00.009-04:00

One of the DeLorean's weaknesses is the Lucas relays, which can fail at any time. This will likely happen at the worst possible moment. Like when you're being chased by, say, the Libyans or something, in a mall parking lot.

Ask around the DeLorean community and most will tell you that only Concours cars use the original relays. Most will tell you you're crazy if you drive around on the original relays.

Well, call me crazy.

My DeLorean has 112,000 miles clocked, which is sorta medium-high in the DeLorean world. And I'm still going strong on the original Lucas relays. ODOC prez Kenny and Pat Mastroianni (yes, that Pat Mastroianni) have both been on my back to replace the relays. So it's kind of ironic that the ONLY relay to ever fail on me was the ONLY one I'd ever updated: the cooling fan relay.

There are a few fixes for the cooling fan relay. The most basic is a pair of wires used as a jumper. But it can melt and should only be used as an emergency fix. The DeLorean Motor Company and John Hervey (DAP) sell updated relays. Rob Grady's Fanzilla is no longer available.

The option I installed in 2009 was Joe Cool, made in limited numbers, and no longer available. It was available through the DeLorean Motor Company Midwest and McFly Motorsports for a while, for $175.

See it installed here.

Normally both fans kick on together, sucking huge amperage. While this is only for a second, the spike causes damage as the current runs through the circuit board. It melts the soldering, causing the relay to fail. You do not want your fans in cahoots with each other! What Joe Cool does is stagger them slightly, so one comes on before the other. This stops them from drawing too much current at once.

Unfortunately for me, my original failing fans draw such HUGE current that my Joe Cool failed while driving the car on a lengthy journey to DPI with friend Ken. Sitting in a traffic jam I watched in horror as my temperature gauge creeped past 220 and edged towards 260.

Joe Cool did not keep his cool. Joe Cool had let me down!

I warned Ken I was about to overheat and spill coolant all over the road. We unscrewed Joe Cool and discovered one of the two fuses had blown. Driving at high speeds to keep the air flowing through the rad, we escaped the jam and high-tailed it to the nearest Pep Boys where I purchased new 15 amp 3AG type fuses for less than 5 bucks. With a new fuse in place, Joe Cool was back to normal and the fans came on beautifully.

Let this be a lesson. Even the updates cannot be relied upon 100% of the time and a sane DeLorean owner will carry around a spare set of relays. Then there's me.

DeLorean Mini-Restoration Underway

2011-09-05T12:27:00.006-04:00

I come from a car family. Growing up my dad owned GTOs, Corvettes, a 442 or two, and was a champion drag racer in the 1960s. Cars were in my blood and I wanted my dream car before my 30th Birthday.

When I bought my DeLorean my intentions were to have fun with it. I wasn't going to stress over it. That changed quickly. As things wore out I replaced them, but often the brand new parts were defective. Over the years I had spent more on shipping and duty than I did on parts. Not too long ago I gave up. And it was the best decision I've made in years.

There are a few vital DeLorean parts which cannot be purchased new any longer. One such part is the fuel distributor. The DeLorean uses the Bosch K-Jetronic constant injection system, like many early 80s exotics like Porsche, Ferrari and Lamborghini. I hate it.

Unfortunately, the rebuilt units I kept installing weren't rebuilt well and lasted anywhere from a minute to a few weeks at most. Embarrassing.

My dream car (go ahead and laugh, I'm used to it.) wasn't much fun any more. I gave up and enlisted the help of Josh Bengston. Josh is the owner of DeLorean Performance Industries, formerly McFly Motorsports. The innards of his brain overflows with performance ideas for the 2.85 liter PRV engine and perfection is the name of the game inside his shop.

And so on a gorgeous mid-August day Kenny and I drove to meet Josh's cohorts, loaded the D onto their trailer, and came home in Ken's D. No, not this one, the regular one.

It would be nice to have a perfect car, and with Josh on the job I know I won't have to wait until my 40th! (Which is years and years away, by the way.)

17th Annual Woodward Cruise

2011-08-23T22:39:00.003-04:00

Within 10 minutes of arriving, I watched as a classic muscle car performed a burnout to a cheering crowd, get pulled over instantly and handed a hefty $200 ticket. Ouch.

I've been to the Woodward Cruise before, and it sure has calmed down from the good ol' days of police in riot gear, but there was still a heck of a lot of action and bizarities.

Wanna see flames and fireballs shoot out of exhaust pipes? Check. A car covered in motherboards and computer chips named Carputer? Check. "Honey I shrunk the car" licence-plated golf cart versions of full sized vintage cars? Check. A rusty 30's hot rod powered by a behemoth Caterpillar diesel? Check. A Ford and Chevy guy getting along? Che... uh... not sure about that one.

The Woodward Cruise is an unbelievable experience. Not as unbelievable as say, stealing one of the retired space shuttles, launching it from your backyard and landing on Mars with it. But it IS the largest car show on Mars. I mean Earth.

And at the world's largest car show, it's not what you saw, but more likely what you didn't see. There's always a couple hundred Corvettes around. Ditto for the beautiful Olds 442. But how about something unusual, like a Studebaker Avanti. It was there. Ten DeLoreans cruising down the road bumper to bumper with their doors open? You bet. A Ford GT? Yup. A Tesla roadster? Of course. Ecto 1 from the Ghostbusters? Yuppers! A 25-foot long speed boat on a trailer sans car, driving itself??? Yes. A super-rare Buick GNX? Absolutely!

Yes, yes yes, they were all there.

When I say they were ALL there I mean it. For days every business along Woodward Avenue is packed with classic cars while more and more cruise up and down the street, bumper to bumper to bumper. Revving, yelling, cheering, and lighting up their tires.

Your insanity levels have to be measurable to enjoy the Cruise. After all, Woodward Avenue is quite literally the only place on earth where people drive from all the way across the country with the sole intention of causing, and staying stuck in, a massive traffic jam.

Junked DeLorean

2011-08-15T21:00:00.009-04:00

A friend and I stopped by a rough-looking shop in New York state on the weekend and here's what we documented: a lost DeLorean. Vin# 17009.

Seeing the destruction of an exotic car usually makes me wince, but seeing a DeLorean in a deplorable state always hurts a little worse. John DeLorean, everyone in the DeLorean community, and each car are almost like family. And seeing a car in this condition feels like someone has stabbed my adorable gap-toothed nephew in the pancreas with a rusty steak knife.

This particular DeLorean is more rare than most; it's a 1983 model, built in September '82, just one month before John DeLorean's arrest.

The engine bay was empty. We were told it had been pulled, much like an overzealous Steve Martin in Little Shop of Horrors, yanking teeth, ripping heads off dolls and smashing doors into the staff's faces. This left the frame exposed which caused the epoxy to deteriorate to a powdery state. Other miscellaneous screws and bolts were missing or rusting.

Rust. Now that's a word you don't typically associate with DeLoreans. Sad.

I couldn't assess the interior as the windows were filthy and the garage owner's son was very reluctant to let us near it despite the fact that we arrived in a DeLorean. The headliner was starting to come down and the leather seats had fuzzy seat covers over them. Probably a good idea since the driver's window was stuck open.

A large crack ran haphazardly through the windshield directly over the rearview mirror. Yet strangely, the rear louvres weren't cracked. Upon closer inspection I saw the usual full-length brace spanning the centre support.

While I understand not everyone can afford to fix their cars at the drop of a hat, it is still heartbreaking to see. And instead of letting these cars rot, the owners could have just given them to me. C'mon guys! I want to own five DeLoreans! Stop crushing my dreams!

Nestle Crunch Cereal - Better Than Bread

2011-07-15T22:38:00.008-04:00

Making a cereal out of some other kind of food seems like a difficult task to me. With limited ingredients, it's tough to make one thing taste like another. It could be the reason why Kellogg's hasn't cranked out a "sausage 'n eggs" cereal yet. Or maybe it's just because everyone knows that's a really, really bad idea.

While on vacation I came across a cereal I hadn't yet encountered. Nestle Crunch Cereal. I didn't have to think twice before grabbing a box. The Nestle Crunch bar is a damn fine chocolate bar and I was dying to see how close to the sun those cereal chefs could fly.

The goal here was not only to make the cereal taste like chocolate, but to give it its namesake crunch as well. For without the chocolate bar's distinct crunch, it would be a failure and you may as well just pour Nestle Quik over top of bread.

The cereal's shape is odd little conjoined balls almost in the shape of a Honeycomb cereal morsel. This did not give me much confidence in how it would feel or taste. But let me tell you. I was wrong.

The chocolate? It's there. Solid chocolate flavour indeed. And the crunch? They nailed it. It couldn't have crunched any better. But there was something else. Something unsavoury. And there it was, in plain Portugeuse, right on the box. How could I have missed it? "com cereais integrais".

Mother-effing whole grain. Hands down the utter downfall of the cereal industry.

Cereal has tasted like garbage ever since they infused whole grain bark and twigs into every mouthful. Until I tasted it again, I'd actually forgotten the reason I stopped buying cereal. And if you've read for a while, you'll know what sort of a cereal maniac I used to be. Maniac. Yeah. I ain't kidding.

I wish I could give two Martini thumbs up to Nestle Crunch cereal. If it weren't for the nine pounds of oak tree in the box, I would. But y'know, if I had wanted an oak tree, I would've bought an oak tree.

Ono Kiawe Hawaiian Charcoal

2011-07-07T20:36:00.012-04:00

"Ho ho ho! The volcano explodes, burns everything, and all we do is ship the charred wood remnants to those suckers in Canada!" is what I imagined those sly Hawaiians saying. Why?

I just bought a new bag of charcoal. Ono Kiawe Hawaiian Charcoal. They claim it is a premium, 100% natural charcoal used in the Hawaiian tradition of the Luau. This is a 20 lb. bag. I'm hoping it lasts me one month, but that will depend on how zealous I get with my grilling.

After using up most of my mega tasty Basques Sugar Maple hardwood, I was very excited to try another and see what flavour it adds to my food. I'm always very interested in learning where the wood comes from so I love reading the backs of the bags.

Curiously, the back of the Ono bag states the following:

Created in Hawaii
Product of Mexico

Ah right. Who's the fool? Apparently me. Now, go back to the first paragraph and replace "Hawaiian" with "Mexcian" and "volcano" with "meth lab". Was that racist? I don't care. Those sneaky Hawaxicans tricked me.

Or did they?

No, it's true. This IS Hawaiian. It's kind of like saying "Assembled in China from parts made in the USA." The wood is grown and harvested in Hawaii, then shipped to Mexico where it's turned into charcoal and packaged for shipping across the border.

Just be wary of buying anything larger than what I bought. For example, if you see a 115 lb. bag... and it's moving... and talking to you - avoid it. Unless you need a great deck built. Was that racist? Damn, I keep doing that.

My rude, insulting nature aside, I am very excited to try this charcoal and I'll let you know how it goes.

Double Down is a Hit

2011-07-04T15:18:00.005-04:00

KFC's Double Down is a hit in Canada and I must say that I'm surprised. First of all, I didn't realize Canada was getting the big fat ridiculous(ly awesome) chicken sandwich. Again.

Apparently we had the artery clogging sunuvabitch last year. And the 2011 version doesn't disappoint either. In fact it's 10% healthier with a 10% reduction in sodium! Rejoice, oh morbidly obese! Rejoice, all ye chicken & bacon lovers! Rejoice, oh haters of that confounded bread that is always getting in the way and ruining perfectly good chicken sandwiches.

This sandwich will go down in history as one of the greatest. I care not what sort of sales figures KFC reports. Today's trip to the local Kentucky Fried Chicken emporium was proof enough for me of the Double Down's success.

At 2 o'clock in the afternoon there was a line. A line. A line in my usually empty KFC. Two hours AFTER lunch.

Ahead of me stood 6 people, all ordering Double Downs. With 7 Double Downs on order, we all sat and waited while our local KFC chef poured his heart and soul into these magnificent chicken creations. Ten minutes later we made our bulging bellies (and KFC's bottom line) fatter.

Grilling Awsome Corn on the Cob

2011-06-23T21:09:00.005-04:00

I know you wanna know how to grill the second most awesome corn on the cob ever. Sadly, I cannot help you. However, if you'll settle for the most awesome corn on the cob ever, you've come to the right place.

Step 1: Buy the freaking corn. I purchased my corn in husks at Walmart. Although it's not my favourite place to shop, right now it seems to be the only store selling corn in cobbed form.

Step 2: Go home.

Step 3: Don't husk the corn. Fill your sink part way and soak the corn. I soaked mine for about 10 minutes. If you aren't old enough to use water, ask your parents for permission.

Step 4: Light your charcoal grill. Right now I'm using Basques Sugar Maple charcoal, however you may use a different kind. If you're awesome though, you'll copy me.

Step 5: Shake the excess water off your corns and put 'em on your hot grill. Put the lid on and let them cook. The water will steam the corn on the inside. Turn them over after 12-15 minutes. Let the husks get nice and dark. If you cook them too long, the corn will become very bendy. I cooked mine for 30 minutes.

Step 6: Take your awesome corn off the grill when they are extremely dark all the way around. Black is ok! Hold a cob in your BBQ glove (or dishtowel if you're a sissy), and peel back the husk with your other hand. It comes off very easily. It looks like this.

Step 7: Put on your butter, salt and whatever else you like. Some sissies like Tabasco sauce. Or pepper. Or HP sauce. That's totally gross and you're a freak if you like it that way, but I'm not judging you.

Step 8: Eat your corns!

Step 9: Once corn is fully digested go to the bathroom. Rinse and repeat.

Night Grilling Insanity

2011-06-20T23:03:00.004-04:00

I can't stop grilling. My new charcoal grill has got me so excited I find myself making food at all hours of the night.

To start, I take my rapid-start chimney, crumple some newspaper up and jam it into the bottom. However, if my neighbours are in their backyards, and I don't feel like disturbing them, I use my Big Green Egg fire-starters which are smokeless little squares of pressed cardboard and wax. I then pour charcoal into the top and fill 'er up.

Lighting the newspaper (or fire-starter blocks) really beats pushing an ignition button on a gas BBQ. Once the charcoal starts to burn, it puts on a most excellent show, especially at night.

With blue flames shooting up from the chimney, I can roast a pre-dinner marshmallow in under 4 seconds. And when the charcoal has a nice grey coating all over it (usually 10 minutes), I pour it into the bottom of the grill and I'm ready to go.

Grilling is an event. With a gas BBQ you turn a few knobs and the burners ignite. It's not exciting, but it gets the job done. With grilling, lighting the charcoal is half the fun. Or in my case, about 79.2% of the fun, because I ain't no chef, but I might just be a bit pyro. (What can I say? It's badass.)

It's 11:03 pm? Time to grill some corn on the cob! I need an intervention! And when you all come over to stop me, I'll make you some great food!

Newer Isn't Always Better

2011-06-10T21:32:00.008-04:00

In with the old, out with the new. Again. Step into my backyard and you might think you just hit 88 mph in the DeLorean. First I ditched the convenience of my gas BBQ for a 1970's throwback, and now it's the lawnmower's turn.

Last summer my 4 year old Lawn-Boy quit. I had the primer replaced and it gave me another 3 solid weeks of sporadic operation before I started borrowing my dad's 25-year-old Toro. Which has never had a tune-up or repair in its life. (Lawn-Boy, you reading?)

Lawn-Boy customer service was unable to answer any of my questions regarding the new Kohler engines, other than to say they, Lawn-Boy, prided themselves on their reliability. Which basically means nothing.

I decided that if I wanted true reliability, I had to go back in time. Back to 1979. To my old 2-stroke, aluminum deck Lawn-Boy. So, for less than half the price of a new, unreliable mower that would quit on me a month after the warranty, I had my old 2-stroke rebuilt.

What a no-brainer.

It's practically maintenance-free without oil or air filters to change. And what a beautifully devised machine, especially with that adorable off-set wheel. Oh how I miss the quality and design of yesteryear. Has anyone else noticed how much design is suffering these days? For example, car shapes are essentially dictated entirely by aerodynamics.

I miss the good ol' days when design was unrestrained and just.... super duper spiffy. Willikers! I'm really starting to think I should've been born in the 50s.

Charcoal for my Soul

2011-06-07T22:45:00.005-04:00

Long time no post. Things have been tough lately. I'll give you the nutshell, not that you're interested. So, if you don't give two shits about my pathetic life, go right ahead and skip to the end of this paragraph. Do it. I won't mind. What?? You're still reading? Impossible. Alright then, what have I been up to? Geez. I got no idea.

Now the good stuff. I miss my grandparents. I miss their 60s interlocking brick patio. I miss their 60s aluminum folding chairs. I miss their homemade gingerbread men. I miss BBQs at their house on Father's Day.

I'm tired. Tired of cell phones. Tired of the internet. Tired of keeping up with the Jonses. Tired of technology and life in general let me tell you what. And you know what else? I'm tired of cooking with gas.

I've struggled with my stainless steel BBQ for years. It takes 20 minutes to heat up and the food tastes more boring than Stephen Harper's pants. Look I know it's a terrible analogy but let me ask you, have you ever noticed Harper's pants? That's right, you haven't. Because they're BORING. And if you're American you might be asking "Who the hell is Harper?" Lucky you.

My Centros BBQ is rusting. Sure the burners are stainless, but what's the point when the body rusts out from beneath it? Instead of repairing it or forking out an insane amount of money for a new one made in China, I chose the path less travelled. I bought a charcoal BBQ. A Weber One-Touch Gold. Made in the USA.

Nope, there's no temperature gauge. Nope, you can't turn down one half to keep food warm. And nope, there's no instant, push-button ignition.

But what there is is DAMN tasty food in nearly half the time using the Rapidfire chimney starter and some hot-burning charcoal. The charcoal I'm using now is Basques Sugar Maple Hardwood, from Quebec. It's harvested as part of a government reforestation project. AND IT MAKES FOOD TASTE LIKE CRACK.

I'm addicted. And I'm no chef. Before this I could only make toast and ice cubes. I now daydream at work about experimenting with my BBQ. Screw the gas I say. I'm tired of unreliable modern shit. So it's out with the new, and in with the old!

Bjork Swan Dress Costume

2010-11-01T19:16:00.016-04:00

Halloween is arguably the best time of the year. There are so many reasons for its awesomeness that it cannot be summed up in a simple blog. Possibly a really complex blog posting would explain the awesomeness sufficiently, but I have very little time for that. During the month of October, I don't even have time to eat. I'm running on the last morsels of nutrients from my thanksgiving dinner.

This year I had two costumes; a work costume and one for my party. I began my main party costume in August. I've loved Bjork for as long as I can remember. My paraphernalia is extensive. It was time to complete it with some clothing.

It was time to cross-dress.

It was an obvious choice to go with the 2001 Academy Awards era Bjork. Yep, a home-made Bjork Swan Dress Halloween costume. And here's how I did it.

I picked up some sheer curtains ($15) at a thrift store, along with an $8 white skirt. I cut the sheers into strips, and sewed them onto the skirt in layers. I bought 3 white feather boas at Party Packagers for approximately $21. These were glued between the layers.

I bought a small bit of sexy satiny polyester ($6) for the swan's neck, and sewed that to the top of the dress. I stuffed it with about $2 worth of pillow stuffing and a piece of wire. I bent the wire into a U shape, that would go around my puny neck.

I bought $1.50 worth of orange and $1.50 worth of black Fun Foam at Michael's craft store. Using stupid, dull scissors (I need new scissors) I formed the orange piece into a funnel-like beakish sort of shape. It worked!

The black nostrilly part of the swan was more difficult. And my crappy scissors didn't help. I cut a bizarre symmetrical shape out of the black Fun Foam to make this part. It doesn't look like it works, but it does!

I slid the wacky black shape into the orange beak and used my hot glue gun to hold them together. Note to people using hot glue guns - don't use the glue sparingly. Go nuts! The fun foam wanted to revert back into its natural flat shape, and tore. I had to glue this beak twice.

Finally, I used the hot glue gun to attach the completed beak to the head of the swan. It's a major visible component of the dress, so it had to look right. Once complete, I was very pleased with how it turned out.

The last items I needed were shoes and a wig. I bought the shoes at another thrift store for $7. They're not an exact match, but they're close enough that literally 99% of people who see me would never know. (I later found out that 50% of people who saw me didn't even know who I was! Eeep!)

I picked up a surprisingly accurate wig at Spirit Halloween for $16 sometime in mid-September. Total cost, about $78. It's worth every penny knowing you'll never find yourself face to face with another Swan Dress Bjork costume, fighting for prizes at some dope-ass party.

Fully assembled, I'd say I make a pretty sweet Bjork. Most people wouldn't. Most people would run away screaming. Which is exactly what Halloween is all about!

I Like Stainless Steel. Duh.

2010-08-07T22:32:00.014-04:00

I loves the stainless steel. I guess you could say I collect it. After all, it's arguably the most recognizable feature of my favourite car, the DeLorean. Many people would argue the gullwing doors top the list of notable features. For me, it's a tough call.

Regardless, it was my love of stainless steel that first lead Suz and I to DCS in Lexington, Kentucky this June. And my love for stainless steel which, when the show ended, lured us west to St. Louis, Missouri.

The Gateway Arch is a magnificent stainless monument towering over the Mississippi. I had been excited to visit it for a long time. When I encountered all 630 feet of it in person I was stunned even further. Each stainless panel has its own unique characteristics. Reflection of light, colour, and even the names and graffiti scratched into the surfaces.

I couldn't get enough. And so I sat there, day after day taking photos, often alone because my poor wife couldn't handle my obsession. I snapped every angle I could possibly imagine, and a few I couldn't.

On a few occasions I was able to convince Suz to take my picture with the arch. The arch didn't mind. It enjoys its celebrity. You will notice I'm wearing the same blue shirt as featured in my recent post, The Rare DeLorean Spare. The shirt is not available for purchase, but inquiries are welcome.

What's more amazing is how modern the Arch is. Futuristic even. Completed in 1965 from plans developed in 1947 and utterly full of mathematics, the Arch makes the CN Tower look like a bulky pile of concrete crap. Which says a lot, because the CN Tower is waaaaaay neat-o.

Underground, I took more pictures, shocked at the magnitude of the vast museum, memorial, shops, theatre and trams. What was I expecting? A little elevator in the side of one of the legs? Embarrassingly, yes.

Looking back at my pictures, I know I didn't take enough. I know I'll go back one day. Maybe I'll have to go alone. Maybe it's better that I do. Did I tell you that I love stainless steel? Don't act like you didn't know.

The Rare DeLorean Spare

2010-06-25T22:20:00.014-04:00

While I've always had a curiosity to explore, I've never found anything valuable. However, that may have just changed. In preparing my DeLorean for DCS 2010 in Lexington, Kentucky, I discovered something that was previously unknown to, quite possibly, the entire DeLorean community.

I was skeptical at first. After all, thousands of DeLorean enthusiasts have literally pored over every scrap of paper that ever left the factory, and cars have been dissected and each part scrutinized. It is quite possibly the most documented car in the world.

So, I asked around. Other DeLorean owners checked their spare tires. Even people who didn't own one looked through old DMC documents. In the end every single response was the same. Nobody had ever seen a spare wheel like mine.

With my curiosity piqued, I brought my spare to Lexington Kentucky so the experts could examine the wheel, and possibly give me an answer. The first to check out the wheel was a super-jolly ex-DMC employee named Neal Barlcay. He had never seen the wheel, and suggested I speak to Nick Sutton, ex-DMC Parts Purchasing Manager. Unfortunately, the brilliant Nick Sutton was also baffled. He recalled only purchasing one wheel, the wheel everyone else has - a blank one.

Nick asked Jeff Synor, ex-DMC Technical Director (POG) to have a look. People gathered around my unusual spare and read the stamping aloud - "For use on DMC-12000 series cars only". There was lots of speculation. Was it a prototype wheel? Was it intended for the Pilot cars only? Nobody knew. Nick offered to buy my bizarrity. I laughed nervously. Was he serious? Did I really have a one-of-a-kind wheel?

Curious, someone checked a photo they'd taken of a pile of spares days earlier in their shop. Among them, shockingly, was one identical to mine. But that still doesn't answer any questions and Mr. Sutton, owner of a library of DeLorean Motor Company logs, promised to look through them. He apparently has every documentation of any stampings and tooling equipment used by DMC.

With any luck I may have an answer when I see Nick again at DCS 2012 in Orlando, Florida. And with any really great luck, my wheel will be one of only a very small handful stamped prematurely, before the company decided what the car would be named.

If you own a DeLorean and have a spare like this, please send me your VIN# and build date. I'll compile a list and give it to Nick and we'll solve this mystery!

The Cadbury Secret

2010-04-01T22:37:00.004-04:00

Cadbury has a secret. The Cadbury Creme Egg secret. And seeing as how this is Easter, what a perfect time to reveal it to everyone who reads my blog. So, yeah, we're talking six people.

Cadbury doesn't want you to know something about their creme eggs. Not all Cadbury Creme Eggs are created equal, and their staff will do anything to keep that knowledge from customers.

Last Easter I came across a giant bin of Yellow and Green foil-wrapped creme eggs at a dollar store. I was very confused. Okay, MORE confused than normal. I decided to write a letter:

To: 'consumer.relations@brandspeoplelove.com'
Subject: Inquiry About Cadbury Creme Egg Foil Wrapped Egg.

Hello,
I am hoping someone can clear up some confusion about a product which may in fact be some scary Cadbury knock-off filled with all sorts of horrors. In Ontario there are stores selling a "Cadbury Creme Egg" which is not in the traditional red & blue foil. The colours are yellow and green. Does Cadbury wrap eggs in two different foils? Does Cadbury have special relations with Dollar Stores, selling a different colour of egg? Most importantly, is this a genuine Cadbury product? I am afraid to purchase it.

Thank you,
Martini

At first it does not appear that Cadbury's customer relations reply was miserable. However, upon discovering the truth, part in thanks to Wikipedia, and part in thanks to what happened afterward, I can confidently say this reply was a massive lie wrapped in a canned letter, oozing with marketing propaganda.

From: consumer.relations@brandspeoplelove.com
Sent: Friday, March 13, 2009 1:00 PM
Subject: Your Inquiry About Cadbury Creme Egg Foil Wrapped Egg. #001153330A

Dear Mr. Martini:

Thank you for contacting us about Cadbury Creme Egg Foil Wrapped Egg. Your comments and inquiries are appreciated because they provide valuable feedback about our brands.

The wrapper on our Cadbury Creme Egg has not been changed. It is still a red and blue foil wrapper. The other product that you mentioned is not one of our products.

Cadbury has been making great brands that people love for more than 200 years. We are proud of our family of confectionery products and are committed to providing a wide range of choices for all individuals.

Thank you for taking the time to contact us. We hope that you will continue to purchase and enjoy our products.

Sincerely,
Consumer Relations

According to Wikipedia, this customer service representative just flat-out lied to me. Apparently Hershey is licenced to make and distribute the delectable Creme Eggs, and often wraps them in green and yellow foil. See the entry here.

I decided to write another letter to Cadbury, but I did not divulge what I knew. I wanted to see if they would correct their error, or call my bluff. Read my letter below, and then try to guess Cadbury's response.

Sent: Friday, March 13, 2009 1:06 PM
To: 'consumer.relations@brandspeoplelove.com'
Subject: RE: Your Inquiry About Cadbury Creme Egg Foil Wrapped Egg. #001153330A

Thank you for the information. However, it strikes me odd that you are not interested in the details about this Cadbury knock-off which is using your company name on their product, quite possibly affecting your reputation. If you are this nonchalant about other companies illegally using your company image and name, how can we trust Cadbury? How many other products out there are illegitimate Cadbury rip-offs?

Cadbury's response was deplorable. Their customer service is so terrible, so irresponsible, that they refused to reply to my inquiry. They wrote nothing back to me. I bet you didn't see that coming.

So, my question is, why would they ignore me? Were they embarrassed to admit they lied or made a mistake? It certainly can't be the fact that they're hiding the Hershey Creme Egg secret - it's on Wikipedia for all the world to see. So what other reason might they have?

Perhaps another letter is in order.

Earth Hour 2010 Fail

2010-03-29T22:58:00.006-04:00

Ontario failed for the second time during our 3rd installment of the global energy-saving initative, yet you will never read about it in your newspaper, or hear about it on the news.

Starting with Ontario's Earth Hour blunder last year I started to grow suspicious, and conflicted. As an avid energy conservationist I wanted Earth Hour to be successful. But as a decent human being, I wanted the truth to be known. And the information I downloaded from IESO.ca was finally finding some ears willing to listen.

This year, I was contacted by a local newspaper columnist wanting my thoughts and opinions on Earth Hour, specifically regarding the energy spike of 2009 conflicting with the "official" response from IESO.

I’m working on a story for the event this weekend and would love to get your comment on it. (You) had some pretty interesting points and it’d be great to chat over the phone if you have a moment today.

I showed her the graphs I downloaded from IESO.ca; the first showing 2008's energy-saving dip, the second showing 2009's energy consumption spike. She, in turn, contacted a spokesperson for IESO and, unfortunately, decided not to interview me for her article.

I can't blame her. I'm nuts.

Last year's strange 400 megawatt energy consumption spike, I hoped, was an anomaly. I truly hoped I'd see another 2008-style dip. As the LED clocks in my house all struck 8:30 p.m., thus launching Earth Hour 2010, Suz and I shut everything off and went for a walk. A very disappointing walk.

As we walked around our neighbourhood, we counted. We compared dark houses to those with lights or TV's on. What we found was shocking. Of the 130 houses we counted, 82 had either lights or TVs on, or both. The remaining 48 homes were dark, resulting in a dismal 36.9% of homes participating.

According to the real-time energy demand at IESO.ca, there was an enormous spike of energy useage between 8:30 and 9:00 p.m. View the graph here.

The graph, of which I took a screenshot immediately after Earth Hour, clearly shows an 800 megawatt spike over what IESO had anticpated. Not only that, but the amount of energy consumed during Earth Hour was approximately 100 mw higher than the projected peak energy usage of the entire day (16,404 mw).

What does that mean? Earth Hour was the biggest bust since the Hindenburg. But guess what - you won't read that anywhere, because the IESO reported an Ontario-wide drop of 560 megawatts compared to a "normal" Saturday in "late March".

Let's compare.

2008's daily Peak useage on Earth Hour Day was 17,800 mw. 2009's daily Peak useage was about 15,500 mw. And 2010's daily Peak useage was about 16,500 mw, which was during Earth Hour. So, is 16,500 mw less than a "normal" Saturday? It is. But only if you compare to 2008.

Sorry IESO, you fail at math, and at reporting the truth. I've decided Earth Hour is really only for people who don't conserve every day.

-----------------------
2008 Ontario Earth Hour energy usage.
2009 Ontario Earth Hour energy usage.
2010 Ontario Earth Hour energy usage.

2010 Canadian International Auto Show

2010-03-12T10:34:00.003-05:00

People have been celebrating the automobile since its creation over a century ago, and auto shows have been drawing gawkers like me since 1907. The automobile was essentially a replacement for walking. Until the late 1800s, people had been using their feet to get around, like a bunch of shmucks. Finally, in protest, some of them threw up their tired dogs, banded together and said, "It's time for a car!"

Most people think the car followed the horse & buggy, but few people realize that the horse was invented at the same time as the car. Old paintings of men riding horseback were merely horse-company propaganda, attempting to promote their less-than-efficient animal.

But it was a predominantly patriarchal society, specifically man's love of technology, that saw the car outsell the horse almost immediately. Some horse companies attempted to attract small children to their products by creating smaller versions, such as ponies. But children simply did not have the means to afford their own transportation and pony production slowed. Horses are now relegated to antique horse shows and one can find ponies and the ubiquitous "pony rides" at various fund-raising events and birthday parties.

I spent the final day of the Canadian International Auto Show wandering from manufacturer to manufacturer with my dad, and Subaru Canada's manager of Product Planning, who both preferred cars to horses.

Among some of my favourite displays were the Targa Newfoundland Nissan GT-R in bright pumpkin-orange, one lonely Tesla roadster plugged in and running, and the Cruise Nationals display, where a friend, Bob Train, had his 3rd place '51 Mercury on display.

Bob had his Mercury Monarch custom built from the ground up, bespoke in every respect. Power comes from a GM crate engine developing 502 hp. Inside, the Merc is outfitted in Cadillac STS upholstery, and includes a DVD/GPS system with multiple video screens. Bob originally considered a custom Clydesdale, but fitting the video screens to the back of the horse's head proved too difficult.

Another big draw at the auto show was the Mercedes-Benz display, and specifically, the new SLS. This one really drew the crowds, making photo-ops difficult and proving Gull-wings never seem to go out of style. I was a little disappointed in Mercedes' choice of displaying the car in red, but the car's proportions were a 10. See the SLS AMG here.

We stayed much longer than we anticipated despite the show's smaller size this year. As we exited, we passed through the Shelby display where a few million dollars worth of classic race cars were displayed.

Towards the end, we encountered one of the most spectacular cars of the show; the Ford Shelby GR-1 concept car, with an astonishing all-aluminum body. The overhead lighting glinted off the finger-printed body reminding me of my DeLorean in full sunlight. I was in awe. No offense to those in the paint business, but gorgeous pure metal is #1 in my books. It's cars like this that really put the hurt on the horse business.

Denzel Washington Online

2010-03-01T12:17:00.009-05:00

The question is, did Denzel Washington really watch my friend's Dorito's Viralocity contest video?

That depends. Are we talking about THE Denzel? Denzel the actor, from such movies as The Manchurian Candidate, The Preacher's Wife, and Courage Under Fire? Or are we talking about some shmoe who just happens to have the same name?

If you ask around, it's difficult to find big Hollywood A-list stars admitting to spending time online. But then again, my pal Kevin did have a little conversation with Robin Williams and his online gaming addiction - in particular, Battlefield 2. It exploded on the net, and gaming sites were abuzz for months. Read the story here.

So, what do you think? Is the Antwone Fisher actor really interested in the Doritos Viralocity contest? Would the Crimson Tide actor take the time to watch a video sent to him? And if so, would he also take the time to leave a comment?

After all, he is a very busy actor who's been in dozens and dozens of films and TV shows throughout his 33 year career.

Read the comments below and decide for yourself. Better yet, log in under the temporary login and have your say! The video is here.

pieface A - 2010-03-01 11:44:44 EST
I personally know Denzel, and he definitely watched this video.
oakes w - 2010-03-01 10:57:19 EST
That's not really Denzel Washington you know. There's no way he'd make a comment online! Especially a Canadian contest.
Tracy O - 2010-02-28 13:11:48 EST
It's great to see Denzel Washington interested in the Doritos Viralocity contest!
washington D - 2010-02-28 13:06:31 EST
Great video!

Blind Date

2010-02-22T14:23:00.008-05:00

A friend, "Ashley" the Slore, made this video, entitled 'Blind Date' for a sweet Dorito's contest. Look closely and you may recognize her as Abogado the Russian Superman from our 2009 Halloween bash. And if that's any indication of her creativity, you know the video will be bad ass.

The goal of the Doritos contest, aptly named Doritos Viralocity, is to have your video go "viral". There are some serious prizes awarded to videos that rack up the most points.

Top prize is $100,000 cash, and if your video surpasses the 10 million point max threshold, you win a bonus of $150,000. Points are accumulated through Blogger, Twitter, Facebook, Stumble, Reddit, Youtube and a bunch of others.

There's still time to enter a video of your own for a chance to win big bucks. There's even cash prizes for any video ranking from 2nd to 344th place - In other words, the losers. Can't handle being a loser? Not feeling up to the challenge? Go have a nap. Then come back, check out my friend's video, and I guarantee* you'll laugh.

*Disclaimer - "guaranteed laugh" includes smiling, staring blankly, choking on a foot long hot dog, or shutting your computer down.

FAIL

2010-02-05T22:31:00.004-05:00

I have failed.

And yet, I'm somehow okay with that. Why? Because while trying to be green, I got me a lot of green! Our Home Energy Audit was completed not too long ago. Last week the government finally got around to mailing out the last cheque.

And today I finally got around to updating my blog.

Thanks to Energuy Canada Ltd., who completed my audit, I successfully qualified for an ecoEnergy Retrofit Grant. "Successful." Now there's a word I'm not often associated with.

The original energy audit stated our house, built in 1939, rates 35 out of 100, sitting nicely below the 1939 average of 44. We were a troll under a bridge, staring up at the 44 enviously. In other words, on the mushroom scale, we were a lug nut. Whatever that means.

First came the notice from Energuy Canada. (Check out their website. I went to college with one of the owners, and designed the triple logo.) Their letter included an awesome EnerGuide/Natural Resources of Canada sticker to affix to our electrical panel. And I'd like to point out that stickers are the best thing ever. I still have my sticker album from when I was 8. It's full of puffies, fuzzies, and scratch 'n sniffs, which I may or may not have spent too much time sniffing. Which is why I often run off on tangents. Like this one.

Moving on...

Had we successfully implemented all of the recommendations, we could have reduced our energy consumption by 24% and increased our home's energy efficiency rating to 51. Our new EnerGuide number is significantly higher than our old, at 47. But it's still four percentage points shy of our goal, and 28 below Ontario's new-home average of 75.

Where we failed was a broken window. The first auditor (from a different company) failed to notice that it was leaking worse than a paper roof, and even told us that it did not require replacement.

But that point is moot, as the next thing to arrive was a juicy cheque from the Federal Government for $1,890 followed by a matching cheque from the Provincial Government for a grand total of $3,780. Which will all be spent on scratch 'n sniffs.

Halloween Party 2009!

2009-11-18T22:05:00.006-05:00

A successful Halloween party, among other things, requires that the host graduated the first grade. Good timing, or learning how to read a clock, is vital. If your timing is off, it's going to be a bad night.

Asking guests to arrive too early could have them leaving before midnight, as they get tuckered out too soon. I planned our party to start at 8 p.m., as a good party sees guests let loose for at least six hours.

During the six hours of raging, barely controllable drinking, guests inevitably hungered for not only the skullcakes and 'crack' we put out, but the healthy food too. Thankfully we put out the spread just as people like the Joker started arriving. And since the Joker is so unpredictable, it's beneficial to stay on his good side!

Usually one or two celebrities drop by for our annual Halloween party and 2009 was no exception. Jamiroquai stopped by for a bit, struck a few poses, then scrambled off in his private jet, late for a concert somewhere. Captain Jack Sparrow decided to to chill with us as well, and in typical pirate fashion, stirred up trouble and encouraged others to partake of the shenanigans. But the big shocker of the night was Tinky Winky, in all his purple glory, who entertained until the wee hours of the morning.

As if one Paper Bag Princess wasn't enough, another graced us with her semi-naked appearance half-way to contest time. The Paper Bag Princii caused shock and awe among guests when they revealed that one used to babysit the other, and hadn't seen each other in 20 years!

When partygoers started getting thirsty, yours truly in my homemade Vince Offer costume whipped out the impressive Slap Chop and slapped away everyone's troubles. The fresh fruit filled their sangria glasses deliciously and guaranteed partying for an additional 2 hours (an additional 4 for the unstoppable Joker).

Being an infomercial star made everything easier. Not only did I soak up spilled beer with my German-made Sham Wow, but in the morning I used one as a bath mat. And I know you're all dying to know, so while we're on the topic of me, yes... everyone did love my nuts.

It's hard to believe, but Abogado, the Russian Superman (an inside joke) even showed up. The timing for the costume contest was crucial, as Abogado and her husband, Indiana Jones, had to both save and defeat Russia simultaneously at midnight.

As V, Dorothy, Snow White, the Statue of Liberty and a pair of obsecene plug and outlets gathered 'round for the costume contest results, Waldo pulled a classic move and slipped in behind for the best photo of the night, captured by the CSI team of Vicki and Ryan.

First prize, and a Slap Chop, went to the Joker, who appeared to text all his friends. Although, there's the possibility he could've been blowing up a hospital. Second prize, a Graty, went to Tinky Winky who promised he would try it on Tacos, Linguini, Fettucini, Martini, and Bikinis.

As the night wore on, people slowly trickled out the front door while a few others stayed the night. Yes, thanks to good timing, our 18th annual Halloween party was a success again. Now I just have to work on updating my blog in a timely fashion.

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Last year's mischievousness opens in a new window by clicking here

Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 5

2009-10-31T21:33:00.003-04:00

HALLOWEEN IS HERE, and with it, the final category for the never-famous Halloween Candy Oscars where I always dish out the deadly details on the most delicious, best Halloween candy.

For Best Gummy Candy this year, we have Frankford's Gummy Body Parts going up against Spooky Treats' Graveyard Gummies and Horror Flix's massive Grave Grabbers. I found all three to be excellent contenders, with great detail and demented, fermented flavour.

Frankford again surprises with two major positive changes for 2009. The first is the obvious coffin that that contains the gummy body parts. The old grey coffin is replaced with a more realistic brown, with fabulous details such as evil red hands and blood-soaked nails. Also, they've given up the use of a spacer to increase its size, resulting in a coffin now half as deep as the old one, but which is 100% full of body parts.

2009 also sees yet another addition to the Gummy Body Parts - a freshly scooped brain! And with that bleeding cerebellum comes a new colour. Typical colours were a pink flesh tone, blood red, and white. But the new brain adds blue to the spooky spectrum, and major creep factor to the body parts. What's next for Frankford? A torn-out heart perhaps? Cross your severed fingers!

While the flavour is still superb, there is some disappointment. Body parts appear to have shrunk again, and instead of 100, there are now only 90. I did a full count when I opened my coffin, and indeed there were 90 bloody body parts. The removal of 10 gummies, plus the possible shrinkage has reduced the weight of the coffin from 750g to 675g. As well, the gummy consistency is all over the map. Severed fingers and noses are extremely flabby & soft, while fangs and feet are properly chewy.

Next up we have the goulish Grave Grabbers. These gummy hands come in various shapes, individually sealed. Click here to see the strawberry Skeleton hand, the green apple gnarled green monster hand, and the blue raspberry rotting corpse hand.

Distinguishing the subtle difference between the Skeleton hand and Frankford's body parts is like biting into a zombie's shin and trying to determine if he died Tuesday at midnight or Wednesday at 1 a.m. The Monster hand's apple flavour could not have come across more perfectly. And I've never tasted a more delicious rotting corpse's hand. Not that I hang out in morgues and do that kind of thing (on a regular basis, anyway).

Despite the details being the best of all the gummies, there is a devilish downside to these giant appendages. At a dollar apiece, these macabre mitts aren't very cost effective to hand out at Halloween, although if you did, your trick-or-treaters would be screaming - with joy.

Finally we have Spooky Treats' Graveyard Gummies. Each package contains only 12 of the gummies. But each package only costs $1.00. The gummy is black and coffin-shaped, each one with a different coloured mummy laying in/on it. These mummy detail is decent, while, aside from the shape, there is no coffin detail whatsoever.

Compared to the rest, these are about as exciting as a decapitated vampire. At such a low price, I was expecting them to taste like mouldy coffins and dusty mummy wrappings. But I was impressed. Their ghastly grape flavour is superb! It's such a nice surprise to have such a different tasting gummy. Overall though, nothing rocketed these to super-stardom.

I have to give Grave Grabbers two severed thumbs up for their fab detail, but their size is both a pro and a con. Graveyard Gummies receive two werewolf knuckles up for their great grape taste, but other than that, they're a little boring.

It's obvious Frankford is pouring money into their Halloween candy dept. Not only did they have an additional shape to flaunt this year, their graphic artist really stepped up to the crematorium and designed a superb new coffin container. Frankford's Gummy Body Parts wins 2009's Halloween Candy Oscar for best gummy candy! I can't wait to see what they have in store for the future.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 4
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 3
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 2
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 1

Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 4

2009-10-30T22:36:00.004-04:00

Stories that start with "When I was a kid..." I find hilarious. Unless they aren't funny. Like the one below.

When I was a kid, we didn't get marshmallow things for Halloween. Popular items were often things like pumpkin gumballs and movie monster candy sticks. A can of pop was like striking gold. And of course, there were the obvious chocolate bars, most especially coveted were Reese Peanut Butter Cups. But with all the children allergic to peanuts these days, Halloween safety seems to revolve around peanut avoidance rather than wearing brightly coloured costumes. IE Rainbow Brite or pretty much any of the Teletubbies.

Nowadays there are a few marshmallow treats to enjoy. For the category of Best Marshmallow Halloween candy, I present to you once again the Hershey Pumpkin, and Frankford's Marshmallow Pals.

Hershey has done essentially nothing with their marshmallow pumpkin over the years. Prices fluctuate, but the marshmallow unit basically remains the same. It's a fairly large, turd-like treat. The marshmallow is very gooey, and is covered in what seems to be dark chocolate, although the packaging does not state cocoa content. The pumpkin has a vague shape. It is round, a typical pumpkin shape. At the top there is a small protrusion which is intended to be a stem, but overall detail is poor.

I know what you're saying. "Who cares!" Right? As long as it tastes awesome, really, who does care? Well, I suppose, people like me. But how it looks sometimes has to come second to how it tastes. And the pumpkin tastes good. Especially if you like dark chocolate. Personally, I feel it's like a 14 day old zombie; it's a little too strong.

Then there's Frankford's Marshmallow Pals. Hand-decorated Marshmallow Pals! There are four classic Halloween "heads" - a witch, Dracula, the Frankenstein monster, and a jack-o-lantern. Did I mention they're hand-decorated? Each one has incredible candy detailing that crunches like fresh femurs between your teeth. It's hard to choose which one is the most impressive. The witch has a buckle across her hat, green candy hair, and a wart, while ol' Frankie comes complete with forehead scar and neck bolts. As an added bonus, the marshmallow is soft and perfect, not sticky or gooey.

Although quite a bit smaller than the Hershey Pumpkin, Marshmallow Pals still pack a mouthful of terrifying tastiness. In fact, I find them to be my favourite treat of the Halloween season. Truly, they are edible works of art. Although I suppose technically the Mona Lisa is also edible.

Regardless, Marshmallow Pals wins the Halloween Candy Oscar for Best Marshmallow Candy this year. And until Hershey steps up their game, or Frankford loses all their Chinese child labourers in some freak candy factory disaster, these creepy Pals are going to wear this crown for a very long time.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 5
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 3
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 2
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 1

Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 3

2009-10-28T22:33:00.006-04:00

Great Halloween candy MUST comply to the following three rules. First, it must be Halloween-themed, by which I mean it cannot simply be some cheap, "fun sized" version of normal, everyday chocolate bars or candy - it must be uniquely Halloween shaped. Two, it must only be available at Halloween. If you can get it year-round, it's NOT Halloween candy, so listen up candy companies! Third, it must be delicious. Who cares if it meets the first two requirements if it makes you want to blow candy chunks all over your dead mother's grave?

Those are hard rules. No exceptions. And in the Hard Candy category this year I have two competitors. 2009's first offering is from Zed Candy followed by the ever-faithful Boneheads by Oak Leaf.

Zed Candy is selling Pumpkinheads in jack-o-lantern adorned tins as well as Skulls & Bones in tins decorated with a gold-toothed skeleton pirate and ghostly pirate ship. Each tin is supposed to contain 60 packages, but in all the excitement of the new candy, I forgot to count them before I dug in.

The Pumpkinheads are all the same. Check them out here. They are pumpkin-shaped, and taste like any orange candy should. Upon sinking your werewolf fangs into them, Pumpkinheads crush to super yummy powder.

Skulls & Bones are very different. If you can't guess what each package contains, I'm not going to tell you. The skulls and bones are mixed colours: blood red, regular red, orange, yellow, green, blue, white, and black. Each colour is a different flavour, but I found them to be quite inconsistent. Sometimes dark red ones were spicy like cinnamon hearts while other times they were fruity. Regular red ones were almost always fruity, but once in a while I happened upon an odd flavour I couldn't place.

Blue was most likely a blue raspberry flavour and was one of my favourites. Orange was orange, green was sort of apple-y and yellow was banana/pineapple-ish. Black was weird and indescribable, which leaves white. I can only depict it as some sort of delicious "bone" flavour. I seriously couldn't tell what many of them were supposed to represent in the fruit world.

Compared to Boneheads, the Skulls & Bones candy was relatively bad. I found Boneheads, roughly the same size and shape, to be consistently consistent. Fruit flavours were apparent and very good. Unlike "bobbing for appendixes" in a barrel full of zombie guts, you were never left guessing what you just ate.

Overall, I found that I liked Zed Candy's Pumpkinheads best, despite the fact that they cost almost $8. They were delicious to the max, and the nice tin was a total bonus. Boneheads, although consistent and excellent, just didn't have that special something to put them over the top. A solid second place for sure. Zed Candy's Skulls & Bones, however, are a failure in my books.

2009's Halloween Candy Oscar for Best Hard Candy therefore goes to ZED, for their formidable Pumpkinheads, and NOT for their Skulls & Bones.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 5
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 4
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 2
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 1

Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 2

2009-10-27T23:53:00.006-04:00

Lately I've been working my ass off, which is nothing to sneeze at given how little ass I've got to begin with. As a result however, I've neglected the Halloween Candy Oscars. But it's not entirely my fault. So who's fault is it?

It is the fault of candy companies.

It's hard to get excited and award an imaginary award to an inanimate piece of candy that neither acknowledges its achievement nor thanks me for my effort. Like I'd mentioned in the first HCO awards this year, I wasn't able to find comparables for every candy category.

In the case of gumballs, the Pumpkin Faces gumballs were all I could find this year. Gone were last year's winner, Spooky Eyes gumballs. And I haven't seen 2005's winner, Concord Confections “Halloween Combo” since, well, 2005.

But that's not a bad thing. Looking at the bright side of things, we should count our lucky disemboweled zombie torsos that somebody still has the guts (don't pardon the pun - it was made on purpose so enjoy it) to put out a Halloween-themed gumball.

The Pumpkin Faces gum consists of orange gumballs with black jack-o-lantern details and black gumballs with white jack-o-lantern details. Orange tasted like orange, while black tasted quite different. I honestly couldn't say what it was supposed to be, but the enormous sugar content ensures it is delicious without compromise.

Gum is essentially a wad of sugar. Aside from chewing stale pus-oozed zombie eyes, it's hard to have a bad-tasting gumball. That's why Concord's amazing Halloween Combo really shined. Some spurted blood. Others discharged delectable green slime. Others still were filled with tiny candy seeds. Incredible!

But with no competition this year, the Pumpkin Faces gumballs reigned supreme. It's not an unwarranted victory though. Two severed thumbs up for the ONLY Halloween-themed gumball I could find in Ontario for 2009.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 5
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 4
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 3
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 1

Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 1

2009-10-12T11:31:00.008-04:00

Dearest boys and gouls, you've waited long enough. It is time. Time for what? For the bloodiest, creepiest, Halloweenyest Halloween candy countdown Canada has to offer - The Halloween Candy Oscars 2009! And celebrating my 5th-and-a-half anniversary doing so. May the best Halloween candy of 2009 win!

I decided to start off 2009's Halloween Candy Oscars by sucking. And by sucking, I mean ramming creeptacular lollipops into my mouth. As you may or may not know, I usually compare a couple of different Halloween-themed treats, then choose a favourite. This year, however, will suck (pun intended), as I wasn't able to find comparables for every category despite a few nice surprises on our store shelves.

One of those surprises happened to be Frankford's Monster Lollipop Rings, or, if you're French, Bagues sucons en forme de monstre. I haven't seen these in Canada before and assume these monsters crossed the border without passports.

A tombstone on the bag proclaims the contents to be 25 rings. Upon counting, I discovered this was true, with one package accidentally containing two Frankenstein Monster heads. The other two shapes are a sinister jack-o-lantern, and an evil skull. The breakdown was:
10 Frankensteins
10 Skulls
5 Jack-o-lanterns

The package shows all three rings being displayed by what appears to be Frankenstein's green, grizzled hand. It also states that the rings are fruit flavoured. Since it did not divulge what those fruit flavours were, I tried all three.

The Skull was my first. It was an opaque white, and initial detail was reasonably good. Upon sucking the skull, the sunken eye sockets and other markings faded. It was sweet, as a fresh skull would be, but I couldn't ascertain the intended fruit flavour. If vanilla and sugar were merged into candy form, I suppose this would be it, although I'm probably very wrong.

Second was the rare Jack-o-lantern. Detail was again, decent, but it was much more obvious in terms of flavour. It tasted like an orange creamsicle... with just a hint of werewolf blood.

Finally, the horrifying Frankenstein Monster tantalized my tastebuds while he perched on my finger. Although glossy and smooth, facial features and neck bolts were still obvious. Apple was clearly the flavour, but it was muted.

Overall, their flavours were a little dull. Kids will find the lack of taste far more horrific than the ghastly faces. But when it comes to unique Halloween-themed candy that's as fun to look at as it is to eat, Frankford is hard to beat. And maybe that's why nobody really tried to compete against them this year. Absent from stores were Harry Potter Blood Pops (also a Frankford product) and Jolly Rancher's Creepy Pops.

However, I did find ONE other creepy lollipop: the Spooky Lip Pop. They are not small at 23 grams each, and only sold individually. What makes it so expensive, and impressive, is the huge plastic zombie mouth which replaces the traditional stick. Sucking on one of these babies instantly transforms you!

I chose watermelon, as it is one of my absolute fav flavours. And it was very good. Indeed, the plastic zombie mouth with creepy, cracked zombie teeth was awesome, but at a dollar apiece, Flix Candy "Big Stuff Lip Pop" is hardly cost-effective to give out at Halloween. And what exactly am I supposed to do with the plastic zombie mouth once I'm done?

In the category of lollipop, the Monster Rings are a more logical choice, even if they didn't quite win the taste test. It was a close one, but 2009's winner for best Halloween Lollipop? Frankford's Monster Rings, by a warty witch nose.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 5
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 4
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 3
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars 2009 - Part 2

Disney World Halloween Party 2009

2009-10-05T23:07:00.006-04:00

My entire life I've been haunted by a memory which I couldn't place. I was in a round room, without doors or windows. Above me were paintings, or portraits of people. Slowly, the room began to stretch and the portraits with it, revealing that the people were sitting on things: barrels of TNT, tombstones, etc. Whenever I explained the memory to people, they all thought it was a mad hallucination.

When Suz and I arrived at the Magic Kingdom early Tuesday morning, we bee-lined it straight to Disney's Haunted Mansion. I had been dying to go on this ride for as long as I can possibly remember, pardon the pun. Sitting on a slight hill, the creeptacular mansion beckoned me. I was meant to be inside that house.

And you can all guess what happened.

I screamed (with bloodcurdling joy) when our group gathered in the round, windowless, doorless room. I had been here before and I didn't even know it. I had no idea I'd been to the Magic Kingdom before, but my parents confirmed that I was about 6 when I was there.

We rode it first at 9:30 a.m., followed by a second ride just after lunch. I was saving the final ride for the Disney Halloween bash known as Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party.

At five p.m. Suz and I changed into our costumes, which Disney encourages. The park was closing and when 7 p.m. hit, only those who purchased Halloween Party tickets were allowed to stay and trick-or-treat until midnight. Everyone else got the royal boot, and were not permitted to have any more fun as they were bussed back to their respective Disney resorts.

We re-entered the park in full costume. The train station, armed with hundreds of fog machines, had taken on an eerie transformation. As we walked down Main Street USA, decorated with scarecrows, jack-o-lanterns and other 'ween paraphernalia, I was greeted regularly with variations of "Hey Doc!" My homemade Doc Brown costume was a tremendous hit. Even Disney employees were coming up to me to comment on my handiwork.

After a few guests stopped me and asked if they could take my picture, my Doc Brown costume caught the eye of a Disney employee in one of the parades. The stilt-walking employee stopped in the middle of the street, waving and calling to me emphatically. Suz snapped his picture and I gave him a Martini style thumbs up before he ran back to his position. I'll have to remind myself to thank Christopher Lloyd for all the attention!

Suz and I spent the night trick-or-treating through the park and hopping on the odd ride. (Wait times were usually 5 minutes or less!) It was just as exciting to talk to the people who loved Doc Brown as it was to see the vast, spooky changes made to the park after sunset. It's truly incredible how the Disney engineers use flood lights and ultraviolet lights to change the appearance of nearly every major building. Most notable is Cinderella's castle, which is transformed, essentially, into a foreboding >Castle Dracula!

Around 11 p.m. we sat in the doom buggies for our third and final trip through the Haunted Mansion, which is hands-down the most phenomenal and engrossing ride in the park. In the end I was so dehydrated from the 95 degree weather, the costume, and hauling the heavy bags of candy around that I woke up with the worst "hangover" since last October, making it a true Halloween party.

And for those who want to know what they give out at the Disney Halloween Party 2009, we had really decent stuff: Hershey bars, O'Henry, Three Musketeers, Nestle Crunch, Reese Peanut Butter Cups, 100 Grand bars, Necco wafers, Bottle Caps, Kraft caramels, Laffy Taffy, Airheads, Bit o' Honey, Tootsie Rolls, Tootsie Pops, Lollipops, Giant Now & Later, Atkinson Peanut Butter Bars, SweetTarts, Starburst, Dumdums, Sassy Sours and raisin boxes.

Dirty Disney

2009-09-18T21:56:00.006-04:00

While perusing the local One Dollar Emporium, something dirty caught my eye. The vulgar glimspe I caught in aisle three jarred me at first. I had to go back for a better look and make sure that what I saw was in fact what I saw.

A certain large G-rated business has gotten into trouble before. They are supposed to be a family-friendly, wholesome corporation. But a corporation made up of people. And humans, by nature, are flawed. People make mistakes. This was one of them.

What I saw at that moment kind of dismayed me - the word Disney. Here I was staring at a tiny penis while Hannah Montana, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, stared back at me. I honestly could not figure it out. I called Suz over, hoping she could shed some light on the Disney penis mystery. After she screamed in disbelief, we read the package together:

"Guitar & Microphone Shapes!"

Ah-ha! It was supposed to be a microphone. We flipped the package over and found what the gummy guitar and microphone were really supposed to look like.

So, what offended us the most about the whole package? Was it the penis shape? The penis colour? The Hannah Montana staring at us with mouth agape? Perhaps it was a combination of the above. If we knew it were directed towards a more mature crowd, maybe we would be giggling.

We asked ourselves what the biggest mistake was; the shape, the colour or both. Why this colour? Who approved it? Why this shape? Is that really what a mic looks like? I suppose the thought of an eight-year old girl putting a ~~penis~~ er... microphone into her mouth just didn't sit well with us. And we wondered if anyone else had this same complaint.

And now, with that out of the way, Suz and I are off to Florida for two whole entire weeks of sand, the gulf, swimming and... yep, you guessed it, 3 and a half fun-filled days at Disney World, the happiest place on earth!

Royal Golden Raspberries

2009-09-13T21:37:00.003-04:00

Being outside is awesome! Don't get me wrong. Being inside is awesome too. Awesome with a capital W.... for wicked awesome! Seriously, who can complain about shelter? Not me. But there really are great things about the outside.

Like raspberries.

And not just any raspberries either. Golden Raspberries. And not just any Golden Raspberries either. Homemade ones! That's right. The last time I wrote about our raspberry bush, it was a youngun, a sapling, a juvenile little snot-nosed shit disturber.

Back then, I didn't really like the home-grown golden raspberries it produced. I couldn't quite place my finger on it, but there was something odd about them. Oh, how things have changed.

This year our golden raspberry crop was huge, mature and awesome! The sweetness of the berries oozed with deliciousness. They were amazing. I didn't really want to try them at first, and was happy enough eating the tasty red raspberries for a while. But I just couldn't let the golden ones go to waste, caved in and ate them.

Every day I ate a handful. A super tasty number one awesome handful. I was almost alarmed at how mouthwatering they were. I'm talking fit for a king. I was stunned. I had no idea I was a king. But the handfuls of gold mother nature handed me every day was a major clue.

The second and final clue came after I ate 50 of the royal raspberries, then sat on my throne for an hour. Long live the king!

Valley of Death

2009-08-31T19:31:00.008-04:00

What do bloody mice carcasses, mice skeletons, engine coolant, slime, and general nastiness all have in common? No, they are not McDonald's primary ingredients. No, not even in Vietnam. Give up?

They are all things found in the DeLorean's Valley of Death, also known as the VOD.

Now I see you are asking yourself, where is this Valley of Death, exactly? Basically, it's the space between the top of the engine block and the intake manifold. And iff'n you ain't careful, this valley, or dip, between the two banks of cylinders turns into a cesspool. And then the death part comes.

So, what's so deadly about this valley? Glad you asked. This is the place where time uses science against you to destroy your precious PRV V-6, bringing death to your cruise nights. And your wallet.

Coolant keeps your engine cool, but over time it turns acidic. A major coolant line runs right through this valley. If coolant leaks here, it sits in the channel undetected for years baking acid pies and cakes. These delicious treats slowly corrode the aluminum and melt a hole right into your engine. Here, the cake & pie will raise a family of grenades, which will then detonate when they hit puberty.

When I took my intake manifold off I was shocked at what I saw. It was neither a mouse carcass nor a pile of sludgey coolant with a severed finger floating in it. In fact, it was nothing at all. Have a look at that bit of dirt the green arrow points to. That's it.

With Over 110,000 miles on my DeLorean, which is on the high side as far as most DMC-12's go, it should have been a Godzilla-vs.-Tokyo-style disaster. Instead, the valley contained only a small layer of dirt which I vacuumed up in 3.7 seconds. My VOD turned out to be the Valley of Cleanliness, and did not require any attention.

And that's a very good thing, because if I order one more part for the DeLorean, my wife assures me there will most certainly be a death in our garage. (And I don't mean the engine.)

Quote: Easy As 1, 2, 3.

2009-08-21T20:41:00.004-04:00

I'm no dumbass, I swear. But there's nothing "easy" about 1, 2, 3. It's as easy as 1, 2, 3? Who came up with that? I can tell you this; it wasn't a guy with one, two, THREE plugged downspouts during a torrential downpour.

The Toronto area was just hit with an F2 Tornado yesterday, killing an 11-year-old boy, destroying an entire printing plant and numerous houses. The storms in southern Ontario have been nothing short of brutal this summer. Intense lightning storms, flash flooding, and yeah - tornadii! (That's plural for "tornadoes" in case anyone was wondering)

When I noticed my eaves couldn't handle the water flowing off the roof, I decided I had to solve the problem before the sagging trough ripped right off the house. I've always been angry that my battery-operated army surplus water pump used for cleaning my aquarium quit on me. But let it be known from this day forward, I am no longer angry I had to replace it with a ridiculous hand-held manual vacuum pressure type unit.

While the rain pounded the crap out of our new shingles (if shingles did indeed have crap inside of them), I did the following: One, I ran upstairs and grabbed the aquarium pump from the aquarium cabinet; Two, I ran out into the storm and rammed the pump sideways into the eavestrough; Three, I sucked on the end creating a vacuum, as though I were siphoning gas out of my neighbour's Saturn.

Which I've never done. To anyone's knowledge.

It was, well, as easy as 1, 2, 3. The siphoning action, thanks to science, pulled the water out of the eaves. The flexible tubing directed the water down to the front steps. It was much preferable to the waterfall pouring over the edge of the eaves onto the cars parked beneath it.

In less than 5 minutes, the entire eavestrough was drained of water. And when the storm ended, I cleaned out the clogged downspout. Hmm... Easy as 1, 2, 3? Yeah, I guess it was!

I Cheated On John DeLorean

2009-08-15T18:28:00.015-04:00

It was bulging, and pressing up against a fireproof barrier. It was one of the first things I noticed when I bought my DeLorean: the patched muffler was actually touching the heat shield, and I vowed to replace it with something cool, more free-flowing, and in keeping with the car: Something stainless, like this.

But the more years that went by and the more I thought about it, the more I didn't like the idea. I had to decide if I wanted to keep everything stock, or get a bit more power, and a bit more fun, out of the car.

Then it happened. Last July one of the muffler brackets must have froze in the intense cold of our Canadian summer, and broke. The muffler bracket is weak and typically breaks in the same spot. The DeLorean Motor Company in Houston, Texas, has an upgraded part to replace this bracket. All that is required is to take the rubber damper out of the original, and screw it into the new unit.

When I was visiting McFly Motorsports in Ohio, I mentioned my broken bracket to Josh - and he handed me a new one. It was straight as an arrow, and looked much more functional that the mangled unit I had lying around at home, using my internets, eating my food, and drinking my juice. It was time to give the old bracket a kick in the ass.

But I couldn't bring myself to use the new, improved bracket. I felt like I was cheating on John DeLorean. First the replacement exhaust... and now this? I was already feeling guilty for using a stainless steel coolant bottle instead of the original plastic one that, over time, becomes so brittle it explodes, leaving you stranded.

Stranded in the middle of the desert. In August. With nothing to drink but a huge puddle of delicious coolant.

I decided to keep the original 1981 bracket. I took the two pieces to a shop called Zoro Muffler. I asked the owner if he could help me, handing him the two pieces. He told me that if it could be welded back together, we'd know in a few minutes.

It was a success - and I paid the owner with two maple leaves and a donut, as that is the currency we use in Canada. I was happy to be able to use the original bracket. When my dad and I installed the new alternator, we first stabilized the muffler with the newly welded bracket. Click here for a close up of the weld, and *here* to see the entire bracket, in all its 28-year-old glory.

I think Sir Mix-a-Lot said it best when he sang "...because silicone parts are made for toys". In many cases, it's best to stick with original parts.

Sucking Large: Hershey's Goodies

2009-08-06T20:31:00.007-04:00

Like all the men who came before me, Maria toys with my emotions, giving me hope when I know there is none. She barely answers my burning questions, and won't even give me her proper email address. She works for Hershey, precisely, the customer service department.

To: consumerinfo@hersheysConsumerRelations.com
Date: Aug. 5, 2009

I am in awe of what you've done to the new "Goodier" Goodies. To my recollection, I have never seen such an enormous change to a product. What amazes me in particular is how you took such a delicious product - and utterly destroyed it. The perfect balance between the candy coating and the licorice is gone. They are overpowering, like the lingering odour of dead fish. How could this product get approved? I truly, sincerely hope the new "Goodier" Goodies are temporary and that management will come to their senses and reverse this blunder!
- A Former Goodie Lover.
-----------------------

I can barely bare

to read the response that's

not in Haiku form:

From: consumerinfo@hersheysConsumerRelations.com
To: theguywhomadetheawesomebendercostume@superstud.com
Sent: Thursday, August 06, 2009 4:18 PM
Subject: Re: REF NUMBER: 006043819A

Thank you for contacting us about GOODIES candy. I am sorry you were disappointed and appreciate you bringing this to our attention.

Our product line is continuously evaluated. Occasionally products are reformulated to increase their appeal to consumers' preferences. The reformulation is accompanied by extensive market research testing to ensure that consumers will like the change.

We work closely to keep our Marketing Department informed of both the positive and negative input received from consumers. Your comments are valuable and have been forwarded to the Marketing Department.

This email address is restricted for outgoing messages only. For that reason, please do not respond to this email as the inbox is not monitored.

Maria Miller
Consumer Representative
-----------------------

Have you ever been shocked and disappointed in a product change? Have you ever been included in the so-called "extensive market research testing" these companies claim to undertake? Maria makes me cry. I don't know whether it's because she's lying to me, or because I'm so immature that I just can't handle it.

DeLorean Intake Manifold

2009-08-01T16:04:00.006-04:00

"With his wildest thoughts, did John DeLorean ever imagine this?" I thought to myself as I relaxed in the 40C temperature of our cedar sunroom, feet resting on my DeLorean's intake manifold, which was doing Ottoman duty.

Only a day earlier I was hard at work with a friend, president of one of the many DeLorean owner's clubs. Together we unbolted, unplugged and tested various things. Finally, with the problem within our grasp, we decided to pull the 16-lb. aluminum manifold.

Once removed, we gained access to two very important parts of the engine: the ignition distributor and the "valley of death" or VOD. (A post on that to follow). Realizing we could not possibly finish the repairs without some new parts, we packed it in.

I have ordered a set of o-rings and gaskets from the DeLorean Motor Company and am awaiting their arrival. In the meantime, I thought it would be a great idea to shine up the manifold.

I went into the backyard with a deadly can of GUNK Engine Brite, made from the tears and nightmares of environmentalists. As I sprayed the heavy duty engine degreaser and scrubbed with a toothbrush, the blackened manifold slowly turned a bright silver.

All around me the grass withered and died, and as I hosed off the patio a celebratory rainbow appeared in the petroleum-based run-off. I let the manifold sit outside to dry off for a few hours, then brought it inside for protection, as a new one would run me nearly $600 U.S. plus shipping if it somehow "went missing". That's nearly $37 per pound.

Well, I guess it's not that bad. With Gold around $900 per pound, I'm glad I don't have one of the ultra-rare solid gold DeLoreans*.

-----------------------
*Just kidding. I totally wish I had one. Oh, and the gold DeLoreans only had gold plated body panels, not engine parts.

DeLorean Alternator Replacement

2009-07-26T22:37:00.009-04:00

In 1981, Johnny Carson was left stranded on the road because his DeLorean was outfitted with the original Ducellier alternator. This alternator was not able to supply the car with enough amps to run everything, and so the battery slowly discharged. My DeLorean was also equipped with this same alternator.

When the problem was discovered, the DeLorean Motor Company replaced the 60 amp Ducellier with an 80 amp Motorola alternator. But even this Motorola unit was stretched to its limit when everything was turned on.

Over the years many a DeLorean owner has had trouble. Trouble due to the underpowered alternator, NOT because the cars were filled with bags of cocaine. I was one of those people, so I decided to replace my alternator.

The alternator I purchased was from DMC Houston, or DMCH. It's a super-neat upgraded replacement alternator for $189 USD. They call it the 140 amp alternator. The unit I ordered is rated at 90 amps at idle, 156 amps at 6,000 rpm, and I wouldn't be surprised if it hit 1.21 gigawatts @ 88 mph.

When replacing the alternator, always start by disconnecting the battery or you may burn your socket wrench. Or die. In a DeLorean, the battery is located in a compartment behind the passenger seat. The alternator is easy to access, on the passenger side. First, I slid beneath the car with my tools and undid the bolt holding the six brown wires. They wanted to twist with the nut, preventing the nut from being undone. To stop them from moving, I grabbed them tightly with a pair of orange pliers. You do not have to use orange. You can use any colour, really. If you're cool like me though, you'll use orange ones.

Next, I undid the bolt holding the adjustable tensioning arm. This allows the alternator to swing on the big bolt holding it to the engine block. For those who are curious, or don't really care about the alternator stuff: when working on the car I was laying on a red blanket on the ground. It was soft. Also, the blue arrow on the right is pointing to the bolt on the arm which I've just removed from the bracket on the alternator housing (the left blue arrow).

Any kind of automotive work is easier when you have a helper. I borrowed my dad. Up top, I held a 9/16 wrench (snot-green arrow) on the final big bolt while my blurry dad used a ratchet from below. In no time at all the big bolt came undone. I tapped the bolt through the housing and the 10-lb. alternator fell into my dad's hands. Those who know DeLoreans may have noticed the muffler bracket is missing in this pic. It actually broke in half last year and I replaced it at the same time (here is the post on that).

The last step is to undo the little nut that holds the red wire to the alternator. The new DMCH alternator comes out of the box with the red wire plugged in. I shaved off some of the old wire's sheathing, slid the newly exposed wire into the attached crimper thing, and pinched it closed.

Reversing all the steps here, we successfully installed the new alternator. I used a pry bar between the engine block and the alternator to keep tension on the belt while tightening the bolt on the tensioning arm. The entire job took less than 1 hour and 56 minutes, which is the exact running time for Back To The Future.

Cop Stag, Unknown Doe

2009-07-16T22:55:00.008-04:00

Proudly, with a brand new iron in hand, Suz and I returned home after a fundraising evening known as the Stag & Doe. Handing over hard earned money to the cash-strapped bride and groom is a great way to support your friends. And coming home with multiple door prizes is a nifty way of them saying "Here, take this as a token of our appreciation. I don't know where it came from. Somebody's mom probably."

And yes, I chose an iron. Confused? Eye-ron. That's right. The hot thing used to flatten my pathetic, tattered high-school clothes which I continue to wear decade after decade. Because I can't afford anything new. Because I never have any money. Because I'm always giving it away at these stag & doe things.

The good news is that the styles are starting to come back into vogue. Did I just use the word Vogue? Madonna would be proud. I'm going to strike a pose now, just to give it that 100%. What "it" am I talking about? I don't even know.

What I do know is that I came home from officer ST3's Stag & Doe with a box of tasty Waterbridge Occasions candies (an "Assortment of Chocolates & Toffees" to be exact), a package of Baileys Filled Chocolates, a box of Walkers Pure Butter Shortbread Rounds ("Rounds" is fancy Scottish talk for circle-shaped cookies), some Hot Apple olde style cider mix, a giant blue mug to drink it from, a bowl made of that ever-popular glass stuff, a pair of super neat-o candles, a Durabrand iron, and a sweet can of Spray Starch to stiffen up my flaccid rags.

I'm really looking forward to going on a sugar high, followed by a mad ironing rampage. If I end up hurting anyone in the ensuing orgy of destruction, at least I know a great cop who'll be kind to my puny wrists, and his wife-who-works-with-lawyers who can find one to get all the charges dropped.

And if not, they'll go down with me as accomplices.

Backfiring Perfected: The Fake Wasp Nest

2009-07-03T22:36:00.006-04:00

Wasps suck. They're like that drunk uncle, the one whose arrival is always preceded with, "oh shit, it's Uncle Mike." You know the guy. He's the one who shows up at every family bbq, and every birthday party, always slapping your sister on the ass and telling her she looks "niiiiiiice". Before he arrives, there's a palpable fear. And when he does finally show up, people try to run away. But there's no escape.

You can smack a wasp away, but they keep coming back. You can tell your uncle Mike to "take off" like the hoser he is, but he's too drunk to comprehend what you're saying. Kill a wasp, two more take it's place. Kill uncle Mike, two cops show up and spoil the fun.

The best thing to do is prevent wasps from building a nest in your yard. We purchased a giant fake wasp nest to scare wasps away. It works on the principle that wasps are territorial and will not build a hive within 200 feet of another.

In the 4 years we've been in our house, we've never had a nest. And I didn't want one. So I put up the giant fake hive. What happened? The queen wasp actually built her nest, an exact papery replica, about 10 feet away from it. As if it were comforting to her.

The bitch.

Fact: giant fake hives do not work. To the point, our fake beehive actually backfired completely and attracted wasps into the area. It was a joke, and I was the butt of it. But I didn't care - as long as my sweet, tender butt didn't get stung.

I watched the queen nursing her vile eggs for a day or two, and feared we'd soon have a massive infestation of unwanted uncle Mike's. With steady hands I aimed the hose and blasted the queen with a stream that would make a firefighter proud.

And nothing happened.

Neighbourhood children laughed and pointed as I hobbled my puny stick-ass into the house, fearing retaliation. Suz, attempting to prove her fearlessness, ventured out with a different weapon: The shears.

I cowered behind the door, like a piddling little momma's boy. Peeking out at Suz, I directed her towards the throbbing hive. With a mighty snip, the innards of the hive fell to the ground, larvae feebly wriggling around. And that was the end of the hive.

In the past two weeks, the loathsome queen has not returned. However, if there is one thing I want to return, it's the giant fake bee hive I bought at Canadian Tire. Either that, or hang it above Uncle Mike's toilet.

Sanyo PLV-Z3000 - Some Serious Shit

2009-06-28T16:15:00.010-04:00

Thanks to the Sanyo PLV-Z3000, the sweetest full 1080p projector in all the kingdom, I will soon be seeing some serious shit of my own as Doc Brown punches his Time Machine to 88 mph - in just over one thousand seventy nine lines of HD resolution.

After nearly 7 and one third months of exciting research, I narrowed down my home theatre projector choices to the Sanyo Z3000, the Mitsubishi HC5500, and the most highly acclaimed projector ever, the Panasonic PT-AE3000U.

I decided against the 3-LCD Panasonic for two reasons. First, it cost a couple hundred dollars more than the Sanyo. And in order to acquire the extra cash I would've had to mug at least three little old Nonnas. Ethically, I see nothing wrong with mugging the geriatric grannies. In fact, I'd be racist... er... age-ist if I avoided them simply because of their elderlyness. So what's the reason? I wouldn't be able to handle all the punching, kicking and screaming. All that violence is too much for a tiny stick boy like me.

I'm fragile. Like a flower.

The second reason is because I cannot trust those engineering clowns at Panasonic after our nightmarish experience with our massive P.O.S. 1080i Panasonic TV. The first TV, purchased back in '02 was in the repair shop more than it was in our living room. After 2 years it was eventually replaced under warranty when the entire picture tube failed. And the replacement hasn't been all that much better in the 5 years we've had it.

I am a big fan of Mitsubishi, as I drive a most excellent one every day. In fact, my love for them is so strong that if Mitsubishi ever delved into the world of consumables, I'd eat their hot dogs and wouldn't ever question what kind of meat they used.

But I did not choose the 3-LCD Mitsubishi HC5500, primarily because of the poor price/feature ratio. For a couple thousand dollars less, the Sanyo is the industry's first projector to have 5:5 pulldown (120 HZ) and creative frame interpolation (See www.projectorcentral.com). Additionally, it beat the Mitsubishi's contrast by a large margin, Panasonic's by a bit, and offered 3 full years warranty coverage vs. Mitsubishi's two, and Panasonic's pathetic one year.

Why LCD? Not because it stands for Liquid Crystal Deadliness. No. But I did breifly consider a DLP (Digital Light Processing) projector. I was tempted because I found a few, probably manufactured by Satan, for less than half the price of the good LCD's: For example, the $1,400 InFocus X-10, at TigerDirect.ca.

However, I ultimately decided against that entire technology as I am highly aware of, and susceptible to the dreaded "rainbow effect" that their colour wheel produces. Being vulnerable to rainbows, I'd make a rotten Leprechaun.

The sweet Sanyo is filling my tum-tum with butterflies. But I can't relax yet. I've still got a lot of drywall to hang before I can sit back with a tasty beverage and a Mitsubishi-brand footlong and watch the Z3000 project its high def awesomeness in my basement home theatre.

Star Trek Cereal - Boldly Going Into My Stomach

2009-06-24T22:23:00.004-04:00

Look! Up on the shelf - it's a cereal! It's an advertisement! It's.... Star Trek Limited Edition cereal, from Kellogg's!

As you may or may not know, I'm a cereal fiend, especially when it comes to American cereals. If there's anything I love more than the cereal, it's movie/cereal team-ups.

Way up here in igloo-infested Canada, cereal selection is dismal at best and downright miserable at worst; often the choice between no-name oatmeal, Corn Flakes, or some sort of puffed, half-germinated seed pods with "no added sugar!"

But in the USA there are choices. In the USA there are special cereals. Limited Edition cereals. Cereals like Star Trek, with delicious planet Earth, planet Vulcan, and Delta shield marshmallows that crush gloriously between your teeth.

While vacationing in Ohio, (I know, that doesn't make sense, but it's true) I specifically stopped at a grocery store to see what kinds of awesome breakfast treats I could bring home. I snagged a box of Star Trek cereal for $1.99. In fact, I was so excited, and the box artwork was so excellent, I went back the next day and bought a second box.

The box declares the cereal as a "sweetened oat cereal with marshmallows". But when I dove into the oaty galaxy swirls, I found them to be a less sweet version of plain, ordinary Cheerios. DE-sweetened is a more appropriate description. They certainly weren't bad, but I wouldn't go so far as to say they were sweet.

The marshmallows, however, were fantabulous, as they are apt to be. Like an erect Captain standing strong in the face of space danger, the 'mallows were stiff and crunchy.

Although I found nothing new in this cereal, I still loved it. It was a no-nonsense kind of food. It didn't try to introduce anything special or new. All it did was advertise a great movie, and give your sorry ass self a half-exciting reason to get up in the morning. If only for the marshmallows.

In the end Limited Edition Star Trek cereal has unboldly gone where many cereals have gone before. Into my colon.

I'm Wanted

2009-06-16T22:31:00.004-04:00

While contemplating the existence of Zombies on the weekend, I watched an interesting event unfold outside my front window. A minivan slowly slinked, stalker-style, up my street and came to a stop in front of my house.

I ducked.

Honestly, I have no reason to duck. Nobody is out to get me (that I am aware of) and we never experience drive-by's in our happy neighbourhood. But I ducked anyway.

Spying through my own front window, I watched a child of maybe 9 or 10 years jump out of the back and run up to my front door. I waited for the doorbell, but there was nothing but the eerie silence of my quiet neighbourhood. No blood-curtling screams of "Help! I'm being kidnapped!" or "Call Robocop!" Nothing.

A second later the small human ran back to the waiting van. The rear door slid shut and the van slowly drove away, turned the corner, and disappeared from view.

Eagerly wanting to know what that was all about I ran out the front door to try and see where the van went. But something stopped me. It was a note.

The note was typed on a regular piece of paper: "Wanted: 3-4 Bedroom Home In The ~~Totally Sweet~~ Area. We are a five-person family looking to purchase in your area. If you are interested in selling, please call or e-mail us.
555-555-5555 or ~~stinkinrich~~@sympatico.ca"

Based on the events I witnessed, this family seemed to be hand-delivering notes to only the houses they really liked. I watched them drive past plenty of houses larger than ours, so size did not appear to be the only factor.

This is now the fourth party to express interest in purchasing our humble abode since we moved in. (*The following sentence not intended to insult Realtors, especially Lela, Stan, Peter, Larry and Mark.) All of the interested parties wish to circumvent a Realtor, and thus avoid their high fees, stale coffee breath and annoying, pee-stained catch phrases.

But with four interested parties, two of which contact me on a fairly regular basis to inquire when we plan on moving, perhaps I can LAUNCH THE BIGGEST BIDDING WAR EVER! MUHUHAHAHA! Early retirement, here I come!

Weetabix's New Minibix

2009-06-10T21:22:00.006-04:00

Using a skill I mastered in kindergarten, I noticed something different on the store shelves while shopping for cereal recently.

I used to like those "Spot The 10 Differences" type games until I realized what they actually were. Not exactly a test of your intelligence, but rather, an arrogant representation of the illustrator's apparent brilliance. By erasing one extra wrinkle under some crocodile's eye, or adding one extra millimeter to the bloody croc's third eyelash, the illustrator could simultaneously boost his own ego, and make millions of children cry when they could only find 9 of the 10 differences between the two stupid pictures of crocodiles having a picnic. With beavers. On the moon.

But I digress.

What I noticed on the store shelves was something which wasn't there before. It was a yellow box of cereal with the word NEW! splashed boldly in the upper lefthand corner. To be precise it was Weetabix's Minibix Chocolate Crisp cereal.

When I thought back to my early childhood, I recalled eating Weetabix, innocently swallowing its mushy, sogged clumps. I couldn't pinpoint anything particularly terrible about those memories, so I gladly tossed the box into the lop-sided grocery cart.

Mere hours later I was excitedly prying open the box of Minibix. With delicious-looking chocolate chips embedded in each rectangular wedge, I was expecting a delicious cereal treat.

Upon eating the Minibix, my childhood memories of Weetabix almost instantly came flooding back. And they were not good memories. The dripping sog was far worse than I ever recollected. The cereal had turned to pulpy sludge in only a few seconds.

Every now and then my tastebuds danced with delight as chocolate passed over them, but it was not enough. The cereal was a failure. However, as everything and everyone deserves at some point, I gave it a second chance. But even the next day, when I was fully expecting the softness & squishiness, I just couldn't do it. I had to dump the bowl.

Finally, I decided to try the cereal dry. Lots of cereal is eaten dry, as a snack. Some cereal even tastes better dry. Personally, I prefer any cereal marshmallow when it is dry and crunchy. I was hoping this new Weetabix would have some salvation in its dryness.

The rectangles crushed in my mouth, sweet chocolate mixed with a sort of beige blandness of something similar to, but more fragile than corn flakes. It was.... okay.

Thankfully Suz liked it more than I did and the box did not go to waste. However, I will not make the mistake again. Weetabix is simply another cereal to add to my long list of crappy Canadian cereals - which makes shopping for breakfast in the U.S.A. all the more exciting.

You will only find me eating Weetabix in my winter years, feebly mashing the mush between my gums while I cry over my wasted years of youth.

Hypocricy Of Ontario's Policing System

2009-06-04T10:58:00.029-04:00

Today I went to court for the first time, to fight my bogus "improper muffler" ticket. I was feeling confident because my police-officer friend told me I'd more than likely win. But, still I did not know what to expect.

And if I could offer anyone advice, that is the only thing I would confidently be able to tell them: expect the worst. The worst Justice of the Peace, the worst behaviour from the officer who charged you, and the worst outcome possible. Do this, and you will be prepared.

If you are looking for how to fight a traffic ticket, the following may or may not help you.

============

When I arrived 15 minutes early, I sat outside the courtroom until the prosecutor entered. She was very friendly and I followed her inside. I sat in the second row. Sitting in the front row is not permitted.

Soon afterwards six police officers entered. They all sat in the far back corner and talked amongst themselves. Most of them looked happy and normal. Then I noticed the officer who had issued me the ticket. Officer Peng looked very grumpy and disturbed. Almost angry. Like I had ruined his day by fighting the ticket.

When my case was called I approached the defense table with all the documents I had prepared. I had with me a magazine article on the Porsche Cayman factory exhaust, an independant Harley-Davidson factory exhaust study, results from two decibel tests I conducted on a City bus exhaust, and a Yamaha YZF motorcycle exhaust. I also had with me a letter from my mechanic stating that my exhaust was a properly functioning and properly installed system. I had a copy of the Highway Traffic Act which I supposedly violated, and a list of questions for the officer.

The officer gave his testimony, and was surprisingly disrespectful. He looked behind himself for some of the time, mumbled as though he were fed up or frustrated, and spoke extremely quickly, making it difficult for everyone to hear him. The prosecutor asked him to repeat himself on at least 2 occasions. He also stated falsely that my exhaust sounded like a bee in a tin can, which couldn't be farther from the truth, as my exhaust is low, producing a deep bass tone.

When the prosecutor finished her line of questions, the very pleasant Justice of the Peace indicated I could now ask the officer questions. Unfortunately, I soon discovered that 'Yes' and 'No' questions were the only questions permitted.

It was perfectly permissible for me to ask the officer if he was hung-over that day. (I wanted to know if there was anything interfering with his hearing.) I then asked, "Are you aware that my exhaust IS a properly functioning exhaust that is properly installed by a mechanic?"

He declared that he did not know how to answer the question. I said, "I want to know if you're aware that my exhaust system functions properly."

Again, he stumbled and said he did not know how to answer the question. I said, "It's Yes or No. I just want to know... are you aware?"

It was a pretty simple question for anyone beyond primary school and finally he answered, "Well, then, no, I was not aware of that."

When I moved on to my next question, "Are you aware that my exhaust was specifically designed to meet the strict 95 decibel limit set by..." the prosecutor stepped in and stopped everything. She said this type of questioning is not permitted and the Justice of the Peace agreed, stating the officer is not expected to know the manufacturing details about my exhaust. She said I'd be able to present that in my defense, when I took the stand.

I asked one final question: "Have you ever stopped a Harley-Davidson or any other motorcycle and issued that same ticket?"

"No." was the reply, and I declared I had no more questions.

The officer stepped down and I took the stand. I swore on a Bible that I'd tell only the solemn truth, and the Justice of the Peace asked me to explain why I thought I was not guilty.

My main points to her were facts:

My exhaust is 95 dB, verified by the manufacturer and a dB meter

A Porsche Cayman factory exhaust is 99.2 dB

A Harley-Davidson Softail factory exhaust is 102 dB at cruising speed

A Yamaha YZF factory exhaust is 116 dB at idle

A City bus exhaust is 100.2 dB travelling less than 5 km/hour

I held various magazine articles and explained where these numbers came from. Some were published articles, some were my own independent tests conducted with a decibel meter. I held up the HKS catalogue and read aloud, "HKS exhaust systems that are designated for street use retain all factory emissions equipment and complies with... a noise limit of 95 dB. This is the opposite of the officer's claim that my exhaust was designed to make excessive noise."

I quoted the Highway Traffic Act to the Justice, "'Every motor vehicle or motor assisted bicycle shall be equipeed with a muffler in good working order... to prevent excessive noise...' which means that all of these vehicles must fall under the same law that my car falls under. And all of these vehicles have much louder exhausts than my car."

Now the prosecutor had a few questions for me. She asked if I had replaced my exhaust, to which I answered yes. She asked why I had not just gone to Canadian Tire in order to purchase a quiet exhaust. I declared that I did install a quieter exhaust and explained my reason for replacing it was that my previous exhaust was far too loud. She asked if it was fair to say my exhaust was louder than some other cars on the road. I said it was fair.

Having successfully presented many facts to defend myself, I stepped down. Her Worship, the Justice of the Peace re-stated everything the officer had said, and everything I had said in my defense.

She agreed that there were other vehicles, which were louder than my car. She said she did not understand why there were laws that allowed shops to legally sell exhaust systems that violate the Highway Traffic Act. She said she did not have the ability to change that legislature.

Then came the result. She said while there are indeed other vehicles on the road producing more noise than my exhaust, for example the city bus, police officers cannot possibly stop every single one of them. She continued, stating, "unfortunately, the officer stopped you that day, therefore I find you guilty of the offense of Improper Muffler contrary to the Highway Traffic Act."

How can the legal system justify this? They can't. Feel free to make any assumptions about corruption you wish. You cannot have police officers stopping evey single bus to issue a ticket, thereby delaying the entire transit system. The city would fall apart. And imagine how silly it would be to have city employees (bus drivers) paying the city fines.

I gathered my things, angry at the hypocricy and illegal political partisanship within our city. The principles of equal treatment under the law do not exist here in Ontario.

The Justice of the Peace had agreed my car was not as loud as the Porsche. She had agreed it was not as loud as every motorcycle on the road, and most importatly she agreed in her closing statement that it was not as loud as an official city vehicle. Yet she found me guilty despite these facts, which, by example, puts all city buses in violation of the Highway Traffic Act. Yet you will never see a police officer stopping a bus.

I looked at the officer as I left the courtroom but he refused to make eye contact with me. Instead, with his head down, he turned to his right, and stared straight into the wall, like a small child who knows he just did something wrong.

McFly Motorsports

2009-05-29T21:07:00.009-04:00

Vacations are neither fun nor relaxing when one spends the entire time driving. I present for your consideration the following.

First, there is the driving to your destination and the long wait sitting in your sweltering car at the U.S.-Canada border. Then, once you arrive, there's the drive all around town looking for your hotel and a nice, rat-free place to eat and perhaps relieve one's bowels. Finally, there's that long, 6-hour trip back home. Yes, driving can utterly suck the fun out of a vacation.

With one exception.

Returning home from Cedar Point, Suz and I made a pit-stop in Kent, Ohio. Nestled amongst other shops in an industrial strip sat an oasis of awesomnity: McFly Motorsports.

The owner/proprietor, Josh, who builds high performance engines for DeLoreans, was expecting me. I spoke to him earlier and was stopping by to pick up a part for my DMC-12. When we arrived, Josh welcomed us with open arms... and an offer I couldn't refuse.

The offer? To drive a high-performance, modified DeLorean.

Now when I say modified, I'm not talking a stinking little K&N air filter that adds 1 horsepower. (Okay, it's got that too) But I mean headers, exhaust, ignition and cams. And this was the "mild" performance upgrade offered by Josh.

This particular setup was worth about 70 extra horsepower. And if you know DeLoreans, that means a healthy output of about 200 hp. It was dynoed at 162 hp at the wheels and torque levels jumped almost equally. This much power in a reasonably light 2700-lb DeLorean translated to a very exciting driving experience.

I eagerly jumped in the driver's seat while Josh hopped in the other side. We pulled our doors closed and headed off into the countryside. This D was also lowered 2 inches with an Eibach spring set, seen here, specifically designed for the stainless wonder. I noticed immediately how much easier the car was to drive, and how much more civilized the handling was.

Acceleration was definitely brisk, despite the fact I couldn't bring myself to mash the pedal to the floor. And part of that reason was the sound of the exhaust. I'm not going to tiptoe around it. The stainless DMCH Stage I exhaust, seen here, was loud. According to Josh, the sound reverberates within the headers and can't really be muffled. It was too much for me, and takes away from the car's Euro roots. However, I can imagine many an owner out there revelling in the burbling, muscle-car sound.

We spent about 90 minutes visiting Josh at his fledgling company. But I can tell from the quality of his work and the kindness of his manner that he is going to be a staple of the DeLorean community for a long time to come.

McFlyMotorsports.com

401 Road Rage Rampage

2009-05-25T22:41:00.010-04:00

Nova Scotia, if DET 332 is your ambassador, I suggest you find another. Perhaps someone with human decency. Someone less predisposed to fits of rage. Someone who isn't just plain stupid.

Suz and I, heading towards the Ottawa area for a wedding, were travelling east on the 401 when we decided to stop for fuel. Since the Insight gets, like, eighteen billion miles per gallon, the fuel was food - for us.

When we returned to our car we found the above scene; a minivan, with no handicap permit wedged between two handicap parking spaces. It was so close to the car next to it that the poor elderly woman was unable to enter her car to leave.

The female driver of the minivan, having a smoke right behind me, witnessed me photographing this and aggressively confronted me. "Excuse me! Do you mind telling me why you're taking a picture of my car?" is how the conversation started.

"You parked your van over top of TWO handicapped spaces. And you don't even have a handicap permit!" I replied.

She motioned into the distance, towards the half-empty parking lot, "I couldn't find any parking spaces back there."

"So that gives you the right to break the law?" I asked.

She ignored me and, with dozens of people walking past us, began yelling ridiculous things about the legality of taking photos in the public. She was furious. She scrambled into her purse for her camera, "threatening" to take my picture.

Not wanting the scene to escalate, I got into our car. But as we drove away, the angry woman was screaming that she did not give her permission to take pictures and silly things like, "how about I take YOUR picture?"

Almost laughing, I launched one final insult: "Go ahead. I'm not the one doing something illegal."

She jumped in her van and pursued us east on the 401, chasing us, tailgating us and trying to intimidate us by taking photos of us. She pulled in front of us and alarmingly slowed down, trying to force us to pass her.

There was nothing we could do. Her V6 heavily outweighed our 3-cylinder hybrid. We were no match for the lunatic. Our only option was to stay the course and hope she got bored.

Instead, the danger factor increased as she became fed up with our refusal to play her game. She pulled onto the shoulder allowing us to pass her, then immediately pulled in behind us to continue the harrassment. With every flash of her camera, I felt like a rock star being pursued by paparazzi. I posed provocatively.

We decided to end the chase before she hurt someone. We exited at the first O.P.P. (Ontario Provincial Police) sign and reported her to the O.P.P. Dispatch was concerned about her unacceptable driving behaviour and said they would stop her if they saw her. Another officer stated they would also have Nova Scotia police talk to her about her behaviour. We were satisfied that it was safe to continue travelling and said farewell to the officers.

Lying in bed later that night I thought about the insane driver. I wondered if I should forgive her. Because, after all, I don't know the hardships she has endured in her life which caused her to have no human decency and no regard for the law.

Perhaps it's not her fault at all that she refuses to take responsibility for her actions. Perhaps the Nova Scotia school system failed her, her community failed her, and her parents failed her. Do we blame them, or her? I'll tell you this: I blame her. And Batman. You know, for not throwing her in Arkham Asylum.

It's Sublime Hypermiling Time

2009-05-11T22:13:00.009-04:00

I yearn for this warm weather with the fervor of a teenaged dork longing for a Back To The Future Time Machine Lego kit. Not because it's warm, but because with it comes super sweet fuel economy. Hey, I'm not averse to burning up poisonous dinosaur juice, but I'd rather buy toys and candy than gasoline fuel.

The 1st generation Honda Insight is the most aerodynamic mass-produced vehicle to ever hit the streets. With a drag co-efficient of 0.25, it's very wind-resistant. And with a mere 1,800 lbs. to haul around, you can get better mileage than any motorcycle.

With warmer weather comes hypermiling possibilities, and it wasn't long before I was cranking out 99.1 U.S. mpg in the ol' Honda Insight. Convert that to the Imperial system, and it seems even more impressive at 119 mpg.

Hypermiling is the term given to drivers who squeeze out better mileage than the EPA standards suggest for a specific model of car. Typically, one can expect to achieve worse than the EPA numbers, as the cars are tested under the most ideal circumstances possible, and may or may not be covered in magical fairy dust. However, with an aluminum & magnesium car whose sole purpose is to get great mileage it is possible, with some hypermiling tricks, to achieve almost unbelievable mileage figures.

Hypermilers are stiff. I mean, we don't mind a bumpier ride. Filling the tires more than the car manufacturer suggests is the first easy step to saving money. We run 40 psi all around in our Insight. Others have gone as high as 50.

What's the rush? If you're tyring to hypermile, slow is the name of the game. I drive at the exact speed limit, carefully letting off the accelerator until I'm almost coasting. If there's no one behind me, I'll actually drive slower.

Hills help. Downhill sections of road are the easiest way to save fuel. Instead of keeping my foot on the gas and building up speed, I let off completely and let gravity take over. If there's an uphill section immediately following, I will build up speed on the downhill and use my momentum (Science!) to carry me up the next hill, accelerating only if necessary.

Over the past 3 years I've learned when the electric motor will offer its assistance. With a CVT automatic Insight, the electric motor rewards a quick pedal jab with hefty torque. Starting from a stoplight, a quick stomp of the pedal gets the electric motor spinning, and avoids using so much fuel. Slow starts use only the gas engine, so I do my best to slap the donkey's ass and initiate that electric motor.

Coast through life. Don't forget the virtues of coasting instead of braking. I watch traffic lights and plan ahead so I can coast as much as possible, which has two benefits. Brakes last longer and liquid pteradactyl consumption is much lower.

Finally, a controversial tip. Drafting. Get too close and the Police may view it as tailgating. But if done with extreme caution, you can carefully draft a transport trailer without getting too close, and increase your mileage considerably. I personally only follow when road conditions are excellent. I keep a safe and nag-free distance and ONLY follow trucks in the right-hand lane, giving me a shoulder to veer onto should sudden braking occur.

The results? Try it and see for yourself.

Celeb-Meeting Tool, the DeLorean

2009-04-27T22:39:00.020-04:00

Other than stalking, owning a DeLorean is the easiest, most cost-effective way of meeting celebrities. Of course, there's the DCS shows each year usually attended by James Tolkan (link), Claudia Wells (link), and Jeff Weissman (link) of Back to the Future fame.

And then there's something else. Something a little more intimate. A small local group of DeLorean owners, one of whom is Pat Mastroianni.

Some of you non Canadians might be saying "Pat who?" while others may be yelling his name aloud in surprise, astonishment and glee: "Joey?!"

While attending our Tech Day I had the pleasure of meeting Pat Mastroianni, aka Joey Jeremiah of Degrassi Jr. High fame. Known for wearing a cool hat and being, well, cool, what what else could one expect than to find him wearing a cool DMC hat, driving an ultimately cool stainless steel DeLorean?

Yep. Mr. Mastroianni owns a DeLorean. (Black interior, grooved, no gas flap)

Somehow, I managed to pull into the parking lot and slip my rumbling DeLorean right in beside Pat's. Suz was the first to notice him exclaiming, "I think he's famous! When you introduce yourself, see if his name is Pat. If it is, he's from Degrassi!"

And that's pretty much exactly how it went down. For the next few hours, we all partook of the garage's most excellent free hoist, helping each other do a little maintenance. Even Pat himself got his hands dirty, literally. (Which wasn't really a big deal, because along with the hoist, we were allowed to use the sink.)

Outside, Pat admired my car. Specifically, the glossy paint job on the rear fascia. After 25-ish years of mechanics bent over the engine, his paint was worn & peeling. Somehow, having a celebrity compliment anything of yours makes that item a little more appealing. I wish I could've told him it was a local Toronto shop that painted the fascia. But the British Columbian shop that did the A-1 job is a little far.

While repairs went on around us, Pat helped me locate a bad relay bypass in my electrical panel. We both have the original 30-year old relays and decided they need to be updated before they fail.

It didn't take much for Pat to persuade President Ken to help him install a sweetass strut tower brace in his DeLorean. It was difficult for Pat to contain his excitement. The install took less time than a stalker scaling a fence and dashing all the way to the back door.

During Tech Day, he was just one of the guys, which is probably how he likes it. Eager to drive home and see how the car handled with the new strut tower bar, Pat left a little early. Was it just like Gran Turismo? I'll have to ask him at the next meet.

ODOC Tech Day 2009

2009-04-22T22:35:00.011-04:00

Like a Star-Trek deprived teenaged nerd whose model cement had run out mid-Countach, I lamented the perfectly running DeLoreans that surrounded me as I stumbled into the parking lot, my rumbling exhaust causing commotion.

ODOC's "tech day" 2009 had arrived and ten DeLorean DMC-12's, including yours truly, showed up for the Oakville event. Sydney Automotive had graciously donated the use of their hoist for the day. As long as you had the time and the parts, anything went.

President Ken greeted me immediately. Although we'd spoken via email a number of times, it was the first time we'd met face to face. I instantly felt welcome among the eclectic group of DeLorean enthusiasts whose ages ranged from about 20 to 80 and whose tattoos ranged from about zero to 80.

With the formalities out of the way, Ken got to work examining everyone's fuel/air ratio with his dwell meter. Based on how badly my DeLorean was running, it was a safe bet my ratio was more messed up than Amy Winehouse. But we were all in for a surprise, as Ken declared mine to be "the only one with proper readings."

Suz and I wandered around meeting the other owners while repairs went on both in the parking lot, and on the hoist. On the agenda were coolant bottle replacements, oil changes, angle drive replacements, ball joint inspection and angle drive lubrication. But one crucial inspection was desired by all - the achilles heel of the DeLorean, the trailing arm bolt.

Up on the hoist I eliminated a ticking timebomb, almost literally. The angle drive is the cable system that controls the speedometer. Once it starts ticking, it is about to snap. I lubricated the cable with silicone lube and bought myself some extra time... Just enough to save some school children trapped in bus. Or something.

Before my car came off the hoist, the group gathered 'round to have a look at the dreaded trailing arm bolt.

Two bolts (one left, one right) are quite literally the only things holding the rear suspension onto the car. Unfortunately, the wrong grade of steel was used, and over time, the bolts bend, distort and eventually snap. The result is devastating and causes uncontrollable weeping. Click here to see the results of the bolt failure!

Mine were in perfect condition and required no attention. It looked as though it was updated with this kit. But another DeLorean was not so lucky. The severely bent bolts changed the mood in the garage. "Don't hit any potholes" was heard more than once. Indeed, a cautious drive home was recommended.

But when you're driving a car that sits 4 inches lower than a Corvette and just out of view of anyone in anything bigger than a Ford Escort, being cautious on the highway is always prudent.

2010 Insight In Canada

2009-04-17T18:42:00.025-04:00

After a 4-year hiatus, Honda has revived the famous Insight hybrid, the first hybrid ever available in North America. Although the car "officially" goes on sale April 22, Earth Day, our local dealership already has two, and Americans are already avoiding gas stations in theirs.

When in production, the 1st generation Insight was the most fuel-efficient, least polluting, and most radical car available. Rated at 86 mpg highway, it utterly destroyed Toyota's Prius in terms of mileage.

However, just like the resurrected pets in Stephen King's Pet Semetery, the reincarnated Insight is not the same; Yes, it's a little more evil.

The newly revived Zombie Insight is no longer a sporty 2-seater with limited luggage space. It no longer gets 86 miles per gallon, and it no longer employs a thrifty 1.0 litre, 3 cylinder engine.

The 2nd generation Insight, or I2, is now a 5 door hatch configuration, with a 4-cylinder engine. It will comfortably seat four. Or five if some of the back-seat zombies remove their rotting limbs.

Instead of the sweet combination of aluminum, plastic and ultra-light magnesium of our 2006 Insight, the 2nd generation Insight is constructed of good old fashioned zombie-proof steel, and plastic, which adds up to 2723 lbs, a hefty 900 lbs. over the 1st gen's anorexic 1850 lbs.

What everyone is looking forward to is the 2nd gen Insight's mileage. The 123 hp 4 cyl. achieves 61 mpg highway. A far cry from the 1st gen Insight's 86 mpg, but one must consider all the extra room available for groceries, luggage, and decomposing bodies.

Inside, the uphostery is quite nice. Nothing too flashy or impressive, but nice none-the-less. To save money, and make the 2010 Insight absolutely the least expensive hybrid on the market, the engineers walked over to the Civic assembly line and swiped piles of their steering wheels. In fact it was virtually identical to the wheel in the CSX we "tested" in Ottawa.

The gauges were quite handsome, and placed directly in front of the driver, as opposed to the goofy centre-setup in the Prius. But, along the same lines as the Prius, Honda has created a spiffy graphic display featuring leaves sprouting out of a plant, along with an ECON button. The more miserly you drive, the more leaves you get. Neat-o!

I got a bit of sneak-peek at the Insight, as my sis works at the Honda dealership. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she begged, the only response to our inquiries about test drives was, "we'd be breaking the law." I suspect that it's because the 2010 Insight isn't scheduled to go on sale for another 6 days.

However, it was still exciting to watch the hair impaired employees prepare these 2nd gen Insights for the official unveiling. Shipping stickers and a protective polymer painted onto the hood & roof were being removed in the service bay while I had free reign of the interior.

In order to keep costs low Honda used a smaller electric motor and smaller battery pack. The resulting mileage suffers compared to Toyota's Prius. However, with an estimated price of $23,000 for the base model, you'll be saving $5,000 over a Prius And many people will find that a big bonus.

This CVT Insight was rated at 5.0L per 100km city and 4.6L per 100km highway. The numbers may not be up to snuff for 1st gen Insight owners (3.3L Hwy & 3.9L city), but the payoff is the practical back seat and extra space the 2nd gen Insight offers. With these attributes, Honda is hoping to sell a little more than the 344 1st generation Insights Canadians bought the first time around. That's right. 344 total in Canada, over 6 years of production.

It's CSI, But For Real

2009-04-15T23:13:00.003-04:00

Tonight, straight out of a Hollywood thriller, my street was crawling with police cruisers, SIU Forensic Identification vans, TV crews, and sombre-looking well-dressed men in suits.

The setting sun cast an eerie light on the mystery house, revealing huge blue tarpulins pulled over it. The group of men stared at me as I snapped my photos. For the first time, I felt a little awkward taking pictures.

I could only speculate as to what happened on this quiet street, only a few houses down from my friend Rachel, her parents, and her two sweet puppies that scour the fence separating her yard from ours.

For the time being, rumor on the street is that it was a suicide. However, for the time being, I'm not buying it.

Why? The news van for one. Suicides are not generally covered by the media, unless there are unusual circumstances. Secondly, the blue tarp covering most of the roof was just like a German movie with no subtitles; It just didn't make sense.

With the blue tarp pulled over the roof, I could only think of a few possibilities. The first, was that there had been some sort of explosion inside which had severely damaged the roof, and would allow elements such as rain to enter and upset the "scene".

The second was that something fell, perhaps from an aircraft, through the roof, and killed people inside. Either way, the Special Investigation Unit's Forensic Identification vans proved death was all around.

The unfortunate news, however, is that this was not a movie set.

Happy Easter, Mother Earth

2009-04-12T23:03:00.004-04:00

To everyone who celebrates it, Happy Easter. To those who don't, eat it.

One of the recommendations made in our ecoENERGY home energy audit was to increase the air tightness of our house by 23% to achieve an air change rate of 9.5 at a pressure of 50 Pa. If I succeed, power beyond my wildest dreams will be mine, as well as $300 from the government.

I started this process a while back but never got around to finishing. Partially because I'm lazy, and partially because I'm a man. Okay, so those kinda mean the same thing. Anyway, I popped off the remainder of the dining room trim and caulked the giant gap behind it.

Our auditor, a jolly chap who drove a Z28, also mentioned fitting insulation gaskets behind our outlet plates. They were cheap (about $4 for 10), so I decided all the exterior wall outlets would benefit from them. Anything helps, and I'm hoping to pass the next evaluation well enough to receive my government grants in full.

After a chocolatey Sunday brunch consisting of delicious, nutritious eggs (of the Cadbury variety), Suz and myself (full of vitamins and Tramacet) headed a few streets to the left to wander the conservation trails.

It has been years since I've walked a trail. But the weather was nice, and I was really wanting to go. With the sun blasting, we made our way down the trail to the mucky mess of leaves and logs at the bottom.

Flowers were poking through the mud everywhere and squirrels, full of nuts and lust, chased each other along barren branches.

Back at the top of the trail, a chubby dog ran in front of us. We didn't know why at first. But then Suz saw the deer. Three of them at first, then a fourth. As the dog edged closer, the deer turned and high-tailed it back into the ravine.

It was a very good weekend full of chocolate, energy savings and mother nature.

Signature: A Stand-Up Company

2009-04-05T23:08:00.006-04:00

These days good customer service is what sets companies apart. After all, the quality of just about everything is nearly identical because let's face it, it's all made in China. So personal experience with a company is what makes the difference.

When it comes to companies that deal almost exclusively with "service", good customer service is what keeps them in business. And Signature Vacations is absolutely one of those companies.

After we were scammed in Mexico by moustachioed persons impersonating Signature Vacations representatives, Suz wrote a letter expressing our discontent and suggesting very strongly that Signature should have warned us.

It's only fair that the tour company should have announced to their passengers that tour representatives were not allowed in the airport. Consider that anywhere else in the world, travellers expect to meet their tour reps inside the airport.

Suz's letter explained in great detail the devious plot by the scoundrels, and how they were able to walk away with eighty-nine of our hard-earned U.S. style dollars. After some investigating and confirming, a Signature Vacations rep wrote back the following message:

----- Original Message -----
From: (content deleted)
To: martini@awesomeguy.ca
Sent: Saturday, March 14, 2009 1:21 PM
Subject: Gettin' hosed

Dear Mrs. Martini,

(content deleted)

The content should be treated as confidential and the recipient may not disclose this message or any attachment to anyone else without authorization.

It is true. I do not have permission to share the email with anyone. I do however, have every right to give everyone "the gist" of it.

Signature was "pleased" that we "took the time" to contact them regarding the ongoing scam. It seems as though they had been dealing with this for quite some time. They informed us of two very excellent things.

First, they would be processing a refund for us in the form of a cheque. And true to their word, a cheque arrived shortly afterwards for the full amount we were scammed out of, in U.S. dollars. A few key areas have been altered by yours truly so that the evil Adrian Torres, Scoundrel Extraordinaire, can't forge it.

Second, they said they had contacted Skyservice and told their pilots and crew to make an announcement on all subsequent flights to Mexico informing passengers that their tour reps are outside the airport.

This was vital for the protection of all tourists and was more important to us than the money. Again, they were true to their word. A co-worker who returned from a Skyservice vacation to Mexico not one week ago confirmed that the announcement was made on her flight.

Two Martini-thumbs up for Signature Vacations and for Skyservice. With a reaction like this, in an economy like this, they really deserve more than I can offer for taking action to protect their customers.

---------------
Update: Signature Vacations filed for bankruptcy. It's a shame good guys finish last.

Earth Hour 2009: A Bust?

2009-03-29T11:27:00.003-04:00

Earth Hour, an environmental proactive movement where people around the globe are encouraged to shut off lights and other electricity-consuming devices for one hour, didn't work out too well this year.

This year, the 3rd ever Earth Hour, and the 2nd ever in Ontario, was not nearly as well-promoted as 2008. And that may be one of the reasons there was actually a spike in energy useage, instead of a dip, between 8:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m.

Suz and I duplicated our trip from last year, taking our sweet hybrid car to a nice lookout point over the city, to see the vast darkness.

We were the only ones perched atop the city, staring down at the thousands below us. Street lights, of course, stayed on, but residential blocks were shrouded in shadows as, it seemed, most people turned off their lights, TVs, clock radios and dialysis machines.

But the view was disappointing. Earth Hour was a bust. Take, for example, this empty Tim Hortons. Once bustling with thousands of donut-craving customers a day, it has sat, abandoned and desolate for over a year. However, despite the lack of patrons, it was still fully lit inside, wasting precious energy every day, including during Earth Hour.

And www.ieso.ca confirms the disappointing news. Ontario witnessed a 400 megawatt spike of energy consumption during Earth Hour instead of last year's roughly 500 megawatt dip. Check out this graph from ieso.ca.

But wait. There is some good news. Comparing last year's energy useage to this year's one will notice that during the day as a whole, Ontario consumed far less energy in 2009. The daily high for 2008 was approximately 17,800 mw, while 2009's was 15,500 mw. And while Earth Hour 2008's energy useage was approximately 16,300 mw while 2009 jumped to 14,900 mw. Yes, even though energy consumption jumped upwards during a time we were supposed to be conserving energy, it was still 1,400 mw less than last year.

Hooray?

Blockbuster: Worst Rental Outlet. Evar.

2009-03-22T21:39:00.009-04:00

Blockbuster Video, the largest video rental company in the world, has been entirely ruining the video rental experience since 1985.

How? You're asking yourself that very question right now. I know. That's because I'm smarter than all the Rainmen managing all the Blockbuster's in the world, combined. If you work at Blockbuster, my condolences. I know it isn't your fault. I know you feel the same way I do... because I've talked to you.

Now, before you Blockbuster managers leave me thousands of hate-comments, I would like you to give me a fair and logical explanation for the following shit Blockbuster has pulled for years.

Why can I rent the crappy sequel to any movie ever made, but not the fabulous original? Seriously. Tell me why I can rent Gremlins 2: The New Batch, but I'm not allowed to rent Gremlins, after midnight, or ever. Tell me why I can take home Batman Returns, but if I want to see Jack Nicholson play the Joker in 1989's biggest summer blockbuster (pardon the pun), I have to buy that movie somewhere else. Tell me why you've got The Gods Must Be Crazy II, but I'm the one who's crazy if I want to see the original. Why do you have straight to video garbage like the four-year old Hellraiser: Hellworld, but none of the first four original theatrical releases?

I'm sure there are more modern examples, I just haven't wasted my time looking through my two local Blockbuster's for them where there's more shelf space for candy than there is for genuine movies.

While that exclusive little Blockbuster feature is perpetually annoying, the most frustrating thing is their complete lack of selection. My home DVD collection is larger than either of my two local Blockbuster's. And that's not saying much considering my entire DVD collection is worth less than a new 2009 Chevy Aveo. And that IS saying much because GM is practically giving those things away.

We used to avoid Blockbuster at all costs, but every little independant rental shoppe that dares to go up against the brainless goliath is out of business within the year, forcing Suz and I to rent at the vomit-inducing blue and yellow store.

To give you an idea of just how terrible my local Blockbuster is, here's an example of what's on their shelves this week: 55 copies of Nick & Nora's Infinite Playlist, which NOBODY was renting, and ONE copy of the award-winning, 5x Academy Award nominated, and 5x Golden Globe nominated, Frost/Nixon.

Which was rented.

There is one thing I like about Blockbuster, however. My favourite part of each visit is answering that ever-so-friendly question, "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

The answer is always no. But during this most recent visit I had to ask, "Do you seriously only have one copy of Frost/Nixon?" The reply? "Yeah. Sorry. It's ridiculous. But that's what head office sent us."

Do you hear that "head office"? Even your employees know how ridiculous and stupid you are. LEARN.

Magical Beer Fridge

2009-03-11T22:56:00.004-04:00

Just like this pop can, I've been feeling the pressure lately - pressure to post something. Have you ever seen what happens when a tin of sody pop is placed inside a freezer? I presume this is what happens, although I wouldn't know. Why?

Because this can was in an eensy weensy fridge.

I won a tiny Labatt's bar fridge a few years ago from a radio station, thanks to Jodster over at Useless Advice From Useless Men. It has performed its cooling functions for a number of years now without fail. Until now.

I placed 5 tins of Pepsi Cola brand soft drink alongside 5 equal sized tins of A&W Rootbeer inside my fridge for safe keeping. Less than a week later, I opened my fridge door.... to disaster.

Half of the cans had exploded and leaked their precious contents all over the bottom of the fridge. The other half had expanded to the above state. Upon opening the cans, I discovered the pop was not ruined at all. It was still as tasty as ever.

Figuring something was drastically wrong with the fridge, I tried an experiment. I placed a half-empty cup of water on the bottom of the fridge and shut the door for a week. Upon opening the fridge, I was shocked to discover the water was perfectly liquidy, and just the right amount of cold.

Magically, my fridge had healed itself. Giddy for chilled soda, I hastily rammed 5 or 6 cans of Pepsi back into the fridge. But deep in the back of my mind, I was still worried.

So, just before heading to bed a mere 4 hours after I had filled the fridge, I checked on them. To my surprise, they had exploded. So, having said that, does anyone want to buy a magical Labatt's bar fridge that can freeze pop, but not water?

I didn't think so.

Scammed In Mexico

2009-03-01T22:43:00.009-05:00

Although I learned of the current dangers of Mexico nearly two months ago, the federal government of Canada has formally warned Canadians this week against travel there due to rising danger spawned by a failing economy. I'm not talking liquid bum type dangers here. No, Mexico is a country on the verge of collapse.

During our vacation, we were lucky that we didn't find ourselves running to the toilet with clenched cheeks, and more importantly, that we didn't encounter any violence. But it's hard to imagine bad things could happen in the tourist-heavy Mayan Riviera. After all, tourism dollars is easy money, and why chance disturbing that cash flow?

In fact, tourists, from Mexico's point of view, are loaded with cash - and it's their job to separate them from it. But instead of offering interesting or original souvenirs and mementos, many would rather pull a scam. And here's how one of those scams works:

With your luggage in hand, as you head towards the airport exit, you'll be on the lookout for reps from your travel company. But you won't find them, because they'll be arrested if they set foot inside the airport.

Somehow, the people inside the airport know exactly where you're going and impersonate employees from either your resort or your tour company, calling out, for example, "Signature Vacations, over here!"

As you approach, the friendly, well-dressed Mexicans will welcome you, pull out a map of the island, and proceed to show you where your resort is situated. They will continue, explaining where the best scuba diving and shopping is, and how much taxis cost. They will, in a nutshell, give you good advice and valuable information. And because they are inside the airport, untouched by security, you'll believe they are there to help you.

They'll ask if you are planning on visiting any ruins or renting a car. They will tell you this is the cheapest, easiest and even safest way to see the ruins, as they claim the taxi drivers race along roads at very dangerous speeds and charge far, far too much.

They will explain how they work in conjunction with the tourism board of Mexico and the government to offer tourists cheap rental cars and passes to the ruins in order to boost the economy. And it sounds perfectly reasonable.

They will then offer you various 'packages'. For example, ours consisted of a rental car for 2 days, 4 passes to the Tulum ruins, 4 ferry passes, 4 free breakfasts at the Sandos resort and a bottle of Tequila. The total price is quite consistent; it will likely be $89 US.

Once you hand over the cash (they don't accept credit cards) they will fill out an official-looking receipt and ask to see your driver's licences for the car rental. After they ask you to sign the receipt, they ask you to do something strange.

They'll tell you that outside the airport, the men yelling "Signature Vacations out here!" are their competitors. They'll fold up the receipt, hand it to you, and tell you to hide it. They'll ask that you do not let their competitors know the great price they gave you, because they'll be very angry that they did not make the sale.

If you actually read what you signed, you'll see that it's a timeshare scam. In order for you to receive the "gifts" that you paid $89 for, you must attend a 90 minute seminar/presentation on buying a timeshare at the Sandos resort. And if you do any research into this, you'll see it's a very "hard" sell, where you'll essentially be locked in a room until you've agreed to buy a timeshare.

If you're landing at the Cozumel airport, don't give money to anyone. And if you see Adrian Torres, give him a kick in the balls, and tell him Martini says hi.

Mexico: Good For Snorkelling... And Scams

2009-02-22T18:21:00.006-05:00

Despite being scammed out of $89 thirty seconds after we entered the Cozumel airport, I had enough fun in Mexico to declare that I would like to go back some day.

Like lightning, Suz and I never like to hit the same place twice. Slowly but surely we are seeing more of the world as we visit a different country about once a year. With a shit-ass economy though, this was the year of the cheap vacation. And Mexico is pretty darn cheap.

I've become a little bored with resort-life. I sound like a snob eh? Sitting around drinking all day sounds great in theory, but, believe it or not, unlimited lime daquiris become boring after a while. Suz and I have been to Cuba, the Dominican, and Venezuela, and I've had my share of sitting around. This time, I wanted to DO something. And if there's one thing Mexico is good for, it's doin' stuff.

Okay, no, it's the beer. But if there are two things Mexico is good for, the other thing is doin' stuff. Oh wait... they make good Tequila too.

Of the stuff to be done in Mexico, sightseeing, in particular the ancient Mayan ruins, is obvious. Going on a rather cheap vacation, we were better able to afford some excursions. Feeling vulnerable after being scammed, we played it safe and booked our Tulum ruins excursion with our travel/vacation company.

Tulum was pretty radical. The crusty stone structures overlooking the surreal blue-green water were well-preserved and oozing with Kahlua, one of Mexico's most delicious exports. (Actually, it was the Duty Free at the airport that had all the Kahlua.)

We also visited "the world's largest aquarium", known as Xel-ha (pronounced Shell-ha). It is a natural waterpark consisting of a 22 km inlet with lagoons and caves where snorkelling is top-notch. As a bonus, the park was all-inclusive, so we didn't have to spend any extra for breakfast, lunch, or drinky-poos. Drunk snorkelling is highly recommended. No wait, I meant NOT recommended.

Being a fish lover, snorkelling was something I was really excited about. During our adventures in Xel-ha, and even off the coast of our resort, we spotted some really fantastic aquatic life. The mermaids were too fast to catch on film but some of the other stuff was just as interesting.

Using our Fuji underwater cameras (I picked mine up at Henry's for $11.99) we captured some of the typical Cozumel reef fish such as non-Mopar style Barracudas, stoplight parrotfish, cowfish, ocean triggerfish, needlefish and got bit by a school of palometas. I even chased down a stingray and snapped a really decent pic of him as he left me in his dust.

My only regret, and the reason I'd go back, is to Scuba-dive at the Palancar reef, which was five feet from our resort. My half-hour Scuba lesson in the pool combined with a few confidence-building lime daquiris and anyone would think I'm a divemaster. Who wants to go?!

Goodbye Canadian Winter

2009-02-05T22:24:00.003-05:00

With record snowfall, below average temperatures and an un-insulated basement making our home feel as chilly as an igloo floating in the cold void of space, Suz and I are becoming a little tired of our un-typical Canadian winter.

Working on the basement was fun for a while, and kept my mind from the monotonous and daily grind. The daily grind, for you non-Canadians, consists of a) waking up, b) eating breakfast, c) shovelling for an hour, d) brushing off the car, e) scraping ice off the inside of the windshield, radio, and gauges f) working, g) brushing off the car and going home h) shovelling the nice wall the snowplow left while you are at work, i) eating, j) sleeping. Repeat for 4 months.

Personally, I kind of like i) and j). But they're hard to enjoy when you know that shovelling and scraping are just around the corner.

What makes winter worse is having to step over stiff, frozen hobos everywhere you go. Even worse than that is when your neighbours, during the full moon of a Canuck-style winter, turn into horrible asshole werewolves who park their cars in the middle of the road instead of their perfectly shovelled driveways. Now, I can understand parking in the road as the best option if the driveway was full of frozen hobos, but we live in a relatively hobo-free area. And the odd one you find blocking a doorway will usually move if you give him a poke with a stick.

Coming home from work is supposed to be the best part of the day. But not when your horrible ass-wolf neighbour has blocked the road by parking his Jetta directly beside another car. And this is precisely what happened earlier this week.

Leaving only enough room for a motorcycle to fit between, I blasted my horn for a good 17.2 minutes. Being completely ignored only made the horn-honking maniac in me even more honk-happy. By the time midnight rolled around, I decided the best course of action was to rent a Bobcat and ram the Jetta into the snowbank. But I turned around and drove all the way around the block instead. Go figure.

I made a hasty decision to leave a note on the windshield, explaining to the horrible ass-wolf of his illegal actions. Suz and I also made a decision to cut short our crappy winter and head to the famous crystal clear scuba-diving waters of Cozumel, Mexico.

So that's it for me for a while. Next time you hear from me, I'll be a little browner, a little relaxeder, and a little hung over.

Self-Entertainment

2009-01-30T07:16:00.003-05:00

When I’m not too busy eating delicious pie or screaming about horrible zombies, (which, as you know, are my two main hobbies in life) you can find me working on my basement renovation. This is a serious activity, and as such, does not typically contain - or contribute to - humourous events. That’s not to say that pie and zombies are not serious. In fact, they are two of the three most serious things the human race has ever encountered.

When your surroundings are not funny, like today, you can simply close my blog and read another. However, when my surroundings are not funny, such as when I am working in my basement, I am forced to entertain myself.

I repeatedly hear this story from my old friend BPZ (Baseball Player Zombie from 2005’s Zombie walk). I vaguely remember it, as intoxication hampered my memory retention that night. However, the story goes something like this:

BPZ, a little inebriated, was attempting to hold a conversation with me regarding noxious gas clouds threatening the lives of cosmonauts. Okay, no, our conversation wasn’t about Russian space farts. In fact, I am pretty sure I wasn’t even involved in the witless conversation at all. But BPZ tried to include me in it. Much to his disappointment, and curiosity, I could not be convinced to join the discussion.

You see, I was too busy laughing my head off, in the corner, by myself. When confronted by BPZ, I had to admit: I was telling myself jokes. Dead baby jokes. You know the ones. They’re terribly inappropriate.

When working alone in the basement, I continue my tradition of self-entertainment by whistling and singing songs in my head. But you won’t catch me singing such ditties as Beyonce’s newest piece of crap, “if you like it then you should’ve put a ring on it...” or Ms. Spears’ unlistenable, “all eyes on me in the centre of the ring just like a circus...”

Nope. I like classics.

Come visit me any day of the week and you will find me thinking, whistling and humming “Who puts the future in your hands? Robotix, Robotix! Who gives you robots to command? Robotix, Robotix!” as well as “You run, you slide, you hit the jump and take a dive!” Not to mention the classic do-do-dodododo-do-do-do-do circus tune. American's MAY be able to view it here. Us shivering Canadians are not permitted.

Yes, that’s what it takes to entertain me. Jingles like, “Eight hundred five eight eight, two three hundred, Empire today!” not only help to pass the time, but also distract me from the wretched zombies clawing at my windows. And more importantly, remind me of who to call for carpet when I finish my renovation.

Recycling Gold

2009-01-09T22:12:00.009-05:00

Desperate for cash, our city left two gold recycling boxes on our front porch today in the hopes that we will ignore Russell Oliver's pleas for our used gold, and toss it all into the recycling boxes instead.

Okay. Not exactly.

The truth of the matter is, I am a Recyclor. All shall bow down before me and my mighty recycling skills! Gasp! at the "good variety of newspapers and cartons" I recycled. Excite! to the fact that my blue boxes and green cart had "no contamination." Thrill! to "diverting more than the community's target of 65% of waste from landfill." Gasp once again! When I tell you it would have been even higher if the city hadn't tested our garbage the week after Halloween!

It began back in November when a city employee in a non-garbage truck type vehicle picked up our waste and sorted through it to see how well we were recycling (and maybe snatch a credit card number or two).

Turns out we were doing well enough to earn their coveted "Gold Recycling Box" award. There was much excitement in our house tonight as we celebrated our recycling accomplishments after discovering the "gold" award on our front porch. The two new gold-coloured boxes are meant to replace our blue bins. This action will infuse jealousy and anger into our neighbours, who will then attempt to one-up us, keeping-up-with-the-Jones's style.

With everyone competing to be the best recyclers in all the land, the city wins. Especially if people begin throwing their gold into the bins. It's a very sneaky plan masterminded by ex-big corp. CEOs, small-time Trump wannabe's, and perhaps old Russell himself.

The program requires a citizen to sign up their address and give the city permission to rifle through their garbage for a waste-study. About 2 years ago, I did just that but was unaware that there was an award associated with it.

I had long since forgotten about it, until one day in late October when I received a phone call from a city employee. The pleasant, yet slightly recyclable-sounding woman stated that they were collecting my waste for the study I'd signed up for. Her instructions were to leave our refuse out on a specific date that was not our usual pick-up date. I gathered our throw-outables in the kitchen for one last hurrah, then kicked them to the curb without so much as a hug.

Pulling in to the driveway two months later, I laughed as Suz questioned the bins with, "yellow recycling bins? What the heck does the city want us to recycle NOW?"

It took a moment to set in, and I exclaimed, "we must have won! It was that recycling thingamajigger!" My only worry (associated with this event) is now that my gold boxes are so prominent on the street, I will face extra pressure to keep my recycling prowess at the kingly levels I've achieved. Recyclor challenge everyone to recycle their best!

The Best Christmas Gift

2009-01-06T22:35:00.011-05:00

Christmas is a busy time for everyone. It's busy for men because we rush to the malls last minute, get distracted by 60" 1080p plasma TVs and end up forgetting to buy gifts for our loved ones. It's busy for the women because not only are they planning what will be served at the obligatory Christmas party, they are also baking the pastries and cookies because the men are too selfishly distracted by that 60" plasma TV they just bought themselves during the pre-Christmas sale. Kids? Well, they're not busy at all. But that doesn't mean they're quietly hiding out of the way. No, kids are bouncing off the walls full of excitement, full of joy, and full of candy.

Way tons much candy. Yeah we used to say that. I don't know who we is, or when we said it. But we did. And, clearly, I still do.

Suz and I spent Christmas morning opening our taxedermied platypuses, back shavers, cans of "Fart-B-Gone" and life-sized posters of goats. Once the excitement ended, we headed off to my parents for a tasty dinner with grandma, followed by more extravagant gifts. (I can't believe I got two goat posters.)

Boxing day was a day of travelling. Suz and I spent 5 hours driving to her parents, in the Ottawa vicinity. Another delicious dinner and another round of gift-opening resulted in happiness, and a DVD all about goats.

However, of all the gifts received I'm hard-pressed to find a better one than the pine tree which decided to fall vaguely into the grass and underbrush. Specifically, it was the fact that it fell AWAY from our aluminum Insight instead of on top of it, crippling its driveability and stranding us.

The wind storm fiercely snapped treetops the way a big thing, lets say a monster, snaps little things, like toothpicks. Power lines went down and were it not for the natural gas stove, all would have gone hungry.

Tough trees braved the storm by using nature's sneaky technique of bending, some at staggering 45 degree angles. More pathetic trees, like the pine near our car, cracked at the base and slammed to the ground. An elderly elm crashed across the gravel driveway, blocking it entirely. Suz's brother, arriving back from church, was the first to discover the mess. Single-handedly, he broke it apart and moved the pieces to the sides of the driveway, but it was still wise to drive over the remains slowly.

The death of trees is sad, but goes relatively unnoticed at Christmas, a time when pines are cut down and sold at Home Depot for a tidy profit, a profit which Home Depot employees then use to buy discounted Christmas trees, sap-protectors and goat DVDs for their own families.

In the end, because nothing was damaged, the fallen trees were soon forgotten. Everyone was happy that everyone was safe and uncrushed, and Christmas was a success!

Season's Worst Sugar Cookies

2008-12-24T13:19:00.009-05:00

The Christmas spirit struck our insurance agent this year, and as a result Suz and I received a recipe from her in the mail. The recipe was entitled, "Season's Best Sugar Cookies" and as a huge fan of sugar cookies, I was dying to try it.

At the bottom of the professionally printed recipe card was a note that stated "This recipe is a personal family favourite of Hallmark designer Jeanee Wallace." This endorsement, coupled with the fact that Suz is an excellent baker, made me confident we were about to bake the best cookies ever in the history of the world.

Everything Suz makes is pretty much super tasty. She even baked our wedding cake, to the surprise of many guests. Because of these mad baking skills it was easy for her to mix together:
1 cup butter
2 cups sugar
2 eggs, well-beaten
1/2 cup milk
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder and
3 1/2 cups flour

Together we placed the tablespoon-size rounds of dough on the greased cookie sheet. Together we used our index fingers to make the dough a nice circle. And, precisely 10 minutes later at 375 degrees, together we tasted the Season's Worst Sugar Cookies.

I, not being a Sumo Wrestler and therefore not enjoying the diet of a Sumo Wrestler, was so repulsed by the overwhelming raw egg taste I had to spit mine down the sink then rinse my mouth out with fresh juice from a skunk's stink sack.

Additonally, the cookies had a consistency more like airy corn pone, instead of compact cookie. They even expanded over double the area they were supposed to.

Suz and I agreed: we both despised the cookies. When I told her my feelings towards the vomitous treats, I figured she'd be upset, but I had no choice. If I pretended to enjoy them, I'd likely find myself being tortured by these same demon-egg-cookies next Christmas.

Yes, it was a lose-lose situation for me. And I lost. But at least I'll never have to taste Jeanee Wallace's favourite cookies ever again. Merry Christmas everyone! Consider this warning my Xmas gift to you all!

Milk-Quake

2008-12-19T00:02:00.007-05:00

As I set the carton heavily onto the table, I watched milk ripples dance through my cereal bowl, not unlike the glass of water in Jurassic Park. I had set it down far too hard. Almost dropped it.

In slow motion I watched as my yellow box of Sugar Crisp tipped over, slowly spilling its golden contents. I thrust my hand out and grabbed the falling box, mid-tumble. Using every one of my puny wrist muscles I righted the Sugar Crisp as quickly as I could.

But I miscalculated.

My overcorrection sent the super delicious golden puffed wheat bouncing off my own face, their collective momentum unstoppable. A four-letter word escaped my lips as I slammed the box onto the table, then carefully guarded it with my open hands. "Dang!"

The milk-quake had been disastrous. Thousands of puffed wheat food bits lay like thousands of dead bodies across my dining room floor. The chair beside me held a veritable bowlful. All of it wasted, mixed with a week's worth of dust as well as hair of the cat and human variety.

I got up from my chair to examine the aftermath. It was worse than I thought. The Sugar Crisp crushed under my feet like crunching snow full of sugar granules. It was difficult to walk without making the mess even worse. The poor cats, thinking it was food, scrambled around trying to gobble it up, much to their disappointment.

When everyone's emotions had calmed, the Department of Cereal Blunders (me) took measurements. Disaster was felt as far away as the living room. Puffed wheat carcasses reached as far as 7' 11" from the epicentre of the the milk-quake.

Ending the saddest day to ever strike cereal land, the clean-up crew spent approximately 8 minutes vaccuming, then sent the Roomba in to finish up with the sugar dust while family members consoled Sugar Bear.

Sorta Scrooge, Sorta Not

2008-12-14T14:00:00.004-05:00

Christmas is supposed to bring out the best in people. I find that this is true on the surface, but look a little deeper and you'll find that it brings out both true and fake emotions, as jerks pretend to be nice to avoid spoiling the season, and nice people act genuine. I find myself both loving and hating Christmas for various obvious reasons.

In perfect Scrooge-fashion, I shake my cane at those drawn in to the 'crowd mentality'. Non-handicapped people, feeling that life has been unfair to them because they can't find a parking space, illegally maneouvre their cars into handicapped spaces hoping no one will notice. "I'll only be a few minutes" is what they typically tell themselves to alieve the guilt, if they even felt it in the first place.

Inside malls, crowds of people block aisles with their shopping carts, not giving two flying shits about the shoppers around them. Courteous people beware: There is shoving, rudeness and line-cutting. It's enough to make you want to skip Christmas altogether.

The feeling is a little different this year. Bad news is blasted across newspaper headlines every single day. Thinking about the number of jobs lost and companies closing their doors, it's a wonder to see that people aren't acting even more assholish.

I put my Scrooge aside when Suz and I went shopping for a family we sponsored this season. And we had a lot of fun doing it. I still feel like a kid myself, so spending an hour in Toys R Us felt like nothing. We picked up great toys for the 13-year old boy, and nice lotions and gift cards for the mom, took them home and wrapped them all.

Suz and I are okay for now but no one's future is guaranteed. I hope that if we find ourselves in a bad situation one day, someone will return the kindness.

Subjective Sound

2008-12-06T11:45:00.014-05:00

So, there I was driving along and minding my own business on the last day of November when my rearview lit up like the 4th of July with a Regional Police Officer right on my tail, destroying my lifelong record of never being pulled over.

I couldn't believe it. I hadn't done anything wrong and almost started to panic, trying to think of all the paperwork I needed to show him.

Was my insurance up to date? Yes. Was my licence in my wallet? Yes. Uh-oh. Where was my ownership? My brain was working overtime trying to figure out where everything was while at the same time what this officer could possibly be stopping me for.

My window came down and I sat patiently but nervously. The officer approached my door, glanced inside to make sure I didn't have a great big pile of cocaine on my lap, and gave me the answer. In a very professional but abrupt manner he declared that he was giving me a ticket for having an illegal exhaust, then walked away.

When he returned he asked for my licence, insurance and ownership. My brain had not failed me and I provided all three to him without a problem.

I asked him what exactly made my exhaust illegal. His answer made sense, but did not apply to my exhaust. He claimed that my aftermarket muffler was designed specifically to create excessive noise. He claimed he heard me coming when I "sparked up" my exhaust.

This made me very upset. Firstly, my exhaust is quiet and it's extremely improbable that he heard it. It is more likely that he saw the highly visible polished muffler with the well-known HKS logo etched into the side and assumed I was a street-racing teenager with a bad attitude.

The reality is quite the contrary. I have full respect for the law and have often aided the police in their appeal to the public for information on aggressive drivers. I have both a cousin and a best friend who are officers in the line of duty and a female cousin who is a retired Detroit officer.

That's right. I said Detroit.

Secondly, why was he using drug terminology to describe me? What exactly is my muffler? Some kind of giant joint? I don't even know what sparking an exhaust means, and I was fairly certain that when one is driving calmly in a long line of traffic at exactly 52 kph, one's exhaust wouldn't spark.

The most important thing here is the fact that my exhaust is quiet. I showed the officer my old exhaust sitting in the back seat. I explained how I had just replaced it, specifically with a quieter one, because my old exhaust of nine (9) years was too loud even for me. Quietness was of great importance when I replaced my exhaust and this beautifully polished stainless steel HKS Hi-Power unit came with the recommendation of my mechanic.

Searching for more knowledge to help me avoid getting pulled over again I asked the officer what the decibel level had to be in order for my exhaust to be considered legal.

His answer was surprisingly illogical. Tugging his earlobe he angrily stated that he did not have have a decibel meter in his ear. He claimed that if something drew his attention, it was illegal.

That's right. By his definition of what is illegal, the paint colour of some cars could violate the law. So could a pretty girl. What an absurd thing to say. And, he had dodged answering my question.

Because of this incident, I don't feel safe anymore. If the police, who are supposed to be protecting taxpayers from the dangers of criminal behavour are now wasting everyone's money and time by pulling over those very same law-abiding citizens for preposterous reasons, then who is stopping the criminals?

The issue of volume is what's in question here and I'll admit my exhaust is louder than my hybrid. But it is far from excessive, unless the officer had a hangover. The sound is on par with a V8 Mustang, and is certainly quieter than any Ferrari, Lamborghini, Viper, truck, or city bus out there.

I am fighting the $110 ticket and, whether good or bad, will post an update with the results.

The results: Hypocricy of Ontario's Policing System

Crack Bad. Caulk Good.

2008-11-23T22:55:00.008-05:00

Despite what you may have heard, I am a good boy. Being environmentally conscientious, I had an energy audit done on my 1939 home last year.

Our home, at the time, rated 35 out of 100. The standard for new homes in Ontario is 75. Our objective is to raise our efficiency to 51. This increases the resale value of our home, and saves us money on utilities.

The audit indicated our attic insulation was worse than a hobo's cardboard box, averaging around R-10. Secondly, some of our original windows were performing poorly, allowing air to escape easily. Thirdly, we had no insulation in our basement which essentially made our basement walls act like a heatsink. Finally, we had airtight issues due to gaps beneath our baseboards plus a massive, Oprah-sized 1" gap under our back door, straight to the outside.

Seriously. That's like leaving a window open all winter, for almost 70 years.

The audit had a deadline of 18 months, and with old man winter already clenching his cheeks and squeezing white shit all over us, it was time I got back to work.

While Suz girled it up by baking a cake, I did guy stuff in our living room. To keep from damaging our 6-inch baseboards, I wrapped a towel around my pry bar and popped off the quarter-round trim. Hidden behind was a large gap. The swell auditor suggested I fill this gap with silicone to stop cold air from creeping in.

Using the palm of my hand I felt a few spots where cold air was coming in. Cold air coming into your house needs to be heated, and therefore causes your furnace to come on more often. To stop this, the gaps needed to be caulked.

I used Mono Ultra interior caulking. It's made in Canada. The type I used comes out white then dries clear, but takes 7 to 14 days to dry properly. It didn't matter to me though, because I knew the quarter-round trim would cover it all up afterwards.

It took me 60 minutes to take off the trim and fill the cracks along the two exterior walls of our living room.

As for the door gap, we had our back door replaced with a steel French door that has a modern-type airtight seal. This was probably our biggest problem and hopefully will make a big difference when we have our house re-tested.

Energy Audits are a wise decision. Even in new homes, they can indicate where something wasn't done properly and show you where you can save money. I would recommend it to anyone. If you're in the Toronto or southern Ontario area, I would strongly recommend the friendly, expert folks at Energuy.

5 Bizarre Things About Montreal

2008-11-12T23:04:00.019-05:00

A week before Halloween, Suz and I headed off to Montreal where I learned 5 totally strange things. And I had plenty of time for the shock to nestle deep into my brain while I wandered around downtown Montreal on my cane for a few days.

In all my travels, I have never seen anything quite like Montreal. The 2nd largest city in Canada is home to approximately 1.6 million mostly bi-lingual people, and was surprisingly warm and sunny during our late October stay.

While Suz was busy working, I was observing the beautiful architecture all around me.

Some areas of Montreal were pretty desolate due to the Underground City, a series of tunnels and a mall, which was constantly crowded. But far above the hustling, bustling French mole town, I snapped pictures of fabulous buildings, both old and new, much to the shock and/or disgust of many Montrealers.

Most people, in their normality, ignored me, or simply made a mental note of the handsome guy with the cane taking photos of les gargoyles on buildings. At number 5 on my list of Bizarre Things I Learned about Montreal, however, were the oddballs who scowled at me and my camera, trying to imagine the unprecedented levels of retardation I had somehow achieved by wanting to take pictures of buildings.

As I walked around I noticed the same phenomenon at every intersection. Number 4 is how both drivers and pedestrians alike ignore traffic signs and signals. Every 2.3 seconds a pedestrian walked into the busy roads without looking or caring. Speedy drivers blasted through crowds of people, and merely gave the friendliest little honk to warn of their approach. Without slowing down, they pass, inches away from giving the nearest funeral home more business. It was amazing to watch. In fact, I even captured a crew removing speed bumps, just so those Villneuve wanna-be's could drive even faster.

I continued wandering around, admiring the architecture of both office buildings and churches. During my time on the streets I encountered lots of people. At number 3 are the beggars. What's unusual about these people is that they do not ask for money. Everyone, essentially, asked for either a cigarette or at the very least, 'a light.' Weird.

Exiting a Le Burger King, I encountered the only man who asked me for money. What offended me about this encounter was not that the 20-something guy rammed a Le Tim Horton's cup, literally, into my face, forcing me to jerk backwards. No. What bothered me so immensely was that this friendly fellow was better dressed than I was.

I like to observe. Okay, read into that what you want, but while observing people walking around Montreal, I noticed number 2; That everyone was extremely thin. Yes, Montreal, the city of skinny people. Quite seriously, I saw TWO slightly overweight people during my entire stay. Two.

And that might explain number 1. With everyone in the city walking, Montrealers must be extremely healthy. Being so fit, I assume they would take the stairs whenever possible. Which is why so many of them didn't know how an elevator worked.

Seriously.

It was actually funny watching the confused faces of people and hearing the gasps of horror escape their lips when the doors opened to reveal... wait for it... PEOPLE already on the elevator. It was less funny when these puzzled and perplexed groups attempted to force their way onto the same overfull elevator, while everyone on the elevator shoved their way past in order to get off. This happened to me at least twice a day, for four days straight.

But don't get me wrong based on silly observations. I loved Montreal, and would love to visit again. I was surprised at the friendliness, and how easy it was to get around. It is a very logical city, with beautiful, well-spaced buildings which allow light to brighten the seemingly darkest alleys.

Bender Costume Construction

2008-11-05T22:05:00.022-05:00

I feel great thanks to the kudos from fellow bloggers as well as from other costumed Halloween lovers at the Boston Pizza Costume Contest I won October 31. Therefore, I thought a post on how I made my Bender costume was in order.

My homemade Bender costume started off as a hope. I knew it was going to be fairly difficult even if I could find the parts I needed. But more importantly, I knew it was going to be impossible if I couldn't find the proper head. That's why I started in August.

Strolling through a Zellers one afternoon Suz stumbled across a $7 plastic garbage can, quite by luck. I popped the top off and slid it over my head. It was perfect, and I knew I could make my costume.

I began working on the body first. I bought a Quick-tube, or sono-tube, for pouring concrete footings from Home Depot for $9. I bought the largest one they had, 12" diameter. As most people would agree, 12" is too small, so I split it open. It was also too tall for my torso, so I cut it almost in half. It was also too yellow, but that was easy to fix.

Using an angled strip from the bottom half, I wedged it into the backside, where my shiney metal ass would be, and screwed it together from the inside. I used other small curved bits of leftover tube as the joiners. The cracks were filled with Polyfilla and I later sanded them smooth. See Bender's body here.

While the glorious amounts of Polyfilla dried, I worked on the footcups. They were easy. I bought a pair of plastic salad bowls from the dollar store, flipped them upside down and, using a Dremel, cut feet holes out of them. I took an old pair of Nike's and glued the toe to the front of Bender's footcup. The glue (Goop) was flexible and allowed me to move the shoe around a bit. Finally, I painted them with grey primer, and attached a flap of grey fabric to cover my black shoes.

Back on the body, I carefully measured where my arms should go, and using a jigsaw, cut out arm holes in the sides. The tube would sit on my shoulders, so I attached a couple of spongey rubber pads that were a family heirloom, passed down from my grandpa to my dad, and finally to me. True story.

Once I climbed inside it I realized I could neither sit nor walk up stairs. With the jigsaw, I cut a flap in the front, but left it attached in the middle. Using carpenter's glue I attached a tab on either side of the flap and glued a pair of attracting neo magnets to each one plus the flap. The flap could be popped open with my thigh and would slam back down and be held in place by the expensive magnets.

Bender's head is unique and instantly recognizable. I knew I had to get it right so I was very careful and spent the most time here. First, I made the visor where the eyes would go. I made it from cardboard and added popsicle sticks for strength and a smoothness that bent cardboard is not known for. I filled in the little gaps with Polyfilla and sanded till it was perfect.

I know Bender is 30% iron, but in my case, he was 30% filler & adhesives. Using more Goop glue, I sealed the garbage flap in the top of the dome. Then I filled in the gap with, yep, you got it, more Polyfilla.

Using white caulking, I sealed the finished visor to the garbage can and smoothed it with my supreme caulking skills. I cut the top of a spray-paint can in half - horizontally - and glued it to the top of the garbage can to form the base of Bender's antenna. On that I attached a tapered tube of rolled paper. Finally, I mounted a wooden doll's head, which I purchased at Michael's for about $1.69.

The Dremel was too crazy and unpredictable to cut the mouth out, so I carefully drilled about 40 pilot holes around the mouth perimeter, then cut through them all with a nice blade. Once I sanded the edges smooth the head was ready for paint. Again, I used grey primer, as it matches Bender's colour perfectly.

The dollar store provided Bender's eyes. I used the domes off the packaging of two micro remote control cars, carved them to fit the contour of the garbage can, and spray painted them white. I painted the inside of the visor black, then glued the eyes in place. Once dry, I used a black Sharpie to draw his square pupils.

The fabric for Bender's arms & legs was cheap. I found 1.7 metres of the most perfect grey material at Fabricland for about $7. I had a friend of Suz's family sew this fabric onto some cheap clothing I picked up at Value Village for about $10. She also sewed the most excellent 3-finger square gloves from the same material. Here I am trying it on.

The mouth area is where I see out. I used a hot glue gun and attached some sheer fabric that used to hang in our bedroom window. Suz hated it, so it came down, and this seemed like a great use for it. I drew Bender's teeth with a black Sharpie. Inside the helmet I glued two strips I cut from popsicle sticks. The first reason was to add strength incase the mouth was poked from the other side, and secondly, to hold a neo magnet in place.

This magnet was the key to awesomeness. I glued the magnet's mate to the end of a big plastic novelty cigar that I picked up at Party Packager's for 49 cents. With the magnets, I could put the cigar "in" my mouth whenever I wanted. It worked flawlessly, and the Boston Pizza patrons agreed with their cheering.

This was the most elaborate costume, by far, I've ever attempted. Total cost was close to $100 which included a few extra parts I ruined and had to buy again. Total labour was about 25 fun and stressful hours. Everyone but my dad thought I was crazy. But it all paid off in the end when I won enough money to cover the cost of making it, plus more.

So, if you ever want to attempt a Bender costume, I hope this helps. If not, well, you know what you can bite.

Halloween Party 2008!

2008-11-03T22:56:00.016-05:00

At 8 p.m. Saturday night, exactly 17 years had passed since my first Halloween party. The tradition continued as guests starting filing through the door with fabulous photographer RainyPete among them.

Like a zombie with his head cut off I was running around last minute trying to light candles and put the music on before anyone realized there, well, really was no party to speak of yet. Minutes later the ominous sound of gothic organs filled the house and flickering skull candles illuminated tasty food that was later smeared on the floor in drunkenly loving fashion and danced on for amusement.

As usual, delicious alcohol was free, and flowing all night long for those who dared, or were staying over. But House and Cameron were too focused on each other to care if guests were overdrinking or choking on skullcakes. Luckily there were a number of other doctors present to watch over the rest of us fools.

As the night drew on more and more friends and strangers alike filled the rooms making it hard to move around at times. Luckily Suz had prepared a lot of food and it did not go to waste as an entire starving Survivor cast arrived with the coolest homemade Tiki Torches.

One particular Survivor member happily pranced through the house declaring to all that he had immunity. However, we all know it was that mix of girly coolers and manly beer under his arm making him so zany. He disappeared for about an hour but the 12 doctors present found him and revived him.

It was a huge suprise to have 7 of 9 (Months), a giant Nintendo Wii controller, the all-mighty Wonder Woman, Red the Fraggle, and Mork from Ork show up on our doorstep. I believe I was the only one who was skeptical of Mork. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I bet my shiney metal ass it wasn't the real Mork. Dying to prove me wrong, he showed me his sleeping position.

The very loose TV theme was a hit attracting a number of characters including an actual TV, a pile of garbage as a commentary on what is on TV these days and a super awesome Mr. Rogers who was in desperate need of a drink.

Lucky for me in my homemade Bender costume, alcohol fuelled my power cells and I was required to drink all night. I used my evil powers of persuasion on Mr. Rogers and soon we were best drinking buddies. Forget Fry!

I couldn't have been prouder than when Mike Holmes came through my house and, aside from the severed heads laying about, couldn't find anything wrong with it. He did, however, have a big problem with Chris 'the extra' who was having naughty fun with pen & paper around the food. Nobody dared mess with Mike's massive muscles so we just watched and smiled as he doled out a good hammering.

Around 11:30 we decided it was time for the costume contest. All of the 40 guests drunkenly scrawled their favourite choices for Most Original, Funniest and Best Costume. There were a lot of close races despite 105% of the ballots being illegible.

A bottle of Captain Morgan's Original Spiced Rum went to Christine the TV dinner whose homemade peas, steak & potatoes won her the title of Most Original costume. A Dooley's Toffee Liqueur & glass set went to the bruised and battered winner of the Funniest Costume, Chris the Extra, who spent a whopping $2 on his costume; a cup of coffee from Starbucks. Best Costume was a close call. Mike Holmes lost by one vote to his brother Dr. House, who, for his efforts, took home a Bacardi Superior Rum gift pack.

Bragging about his win, Chris the Extra suffered more beatings as the night drew on. After midnight a number of people cabbed home or hitched rides with strangers. Ugly Betty wisely decided to stay longer and party with the cool kids, and we all danced the night away. It wasn't until the rest of the meatbags had left that Mork revealed his true identity to the shock of everyone but me. It was our good friend Ryan under that red suit all along!

Thanks for coming everybody! I hope you all had fun, and hope to see you again in about 360 days. Check out RainyPete's group shot here.

Last year's shenanigans can be found here!
Link:
How I made my Bender costume.

Halloween Costume Contest

2008-11-02T12:55:00.019-05:00

Sometimes it's not evident that I love Halloween as much as I do. The decorations on the outside of my house are minimal and up until this year, I had never been to a costume contest before.

For years I've been following the adventures of Rob Cockerham at cockeyed.com. He is exciting, talented, dimple-cheeked and modest. These are things I like.

Every year Rob creates elaborate Halloween costumes, then attends massive costume contests in California where the top prizes are huge cash awards, sometimes thousands of dollars. This year, Rob was my inspiration.

2008 marks the return of Futurama. A number of full-length feature movies have been created and the first two have already been aired. Showing my love for Futurama, and Bender in particular, I made a Bender costume. Here is the link to how I built it.

Days before Halloween I noticed two local restaurants were having costume contests. Since our annual Halloween party almost always falls on the same day as these pub, bar and restaurant contests, I've never been able to attend one. But this year Halloween (and thus, the parties and contests) fell on a Friday.

I phoned the Whistling Walrus and asked a few questions. I learned that the crowd would be cheering for their favourite costumes and the top prize was a Future Shop gift certificate, but they would not disclose the amount.

The Boston Pizza near our University was judging the contest the same way, with crowd cheers. Top prize there was $200 cash for best male, and $200 cash for best female. I decided this would be the one I'd attend.

At 10 p.m. Suz and I loaded the components to my costume into the Insight and drove about 1 kilometre to Boston Pizza. Inside, the bar was starting to fill up. Many people were dressed up, but nothing as elaborate as the manager in his totally authentic Ghostbuster costume! I mean, this thing looked like it actually worked. I could practically smell the ectoplasm on him, but maybe that was melted cheese.

The staff was dressed up and many of them loved my costume. Costumed people entered the bar area and many times rushed over to me to pose for pictures. I loved this! But I had never been to a contest before and didn't know how to work the room. I was very nervous. Luckily the Pope calmed me down and I went back to the bar where I calmed my nerves some more - and fueled my power cells at the same time.

Just before 11:30 the Ghostbusting manager made an announcement that the contest was going to start soon. The bar was packed. Every table had 6.2 people crammed around it and it was difficult to walk around. It was getting so full that people began beaming in.

Suddenly the crowds parted as a Christian Bale Batman and a Heath Ledger Joker entered the bar. They were, in a word, phenomenal. Batman's voice was perfect as he commented to me, "nice costume." The Joker moved about the room easily winning people over.

A few minutes later the manager called all contestants to the front. There were just under 20 people entered in the contest. The rest of the bar, well over 100 people, watched carefully as we all stood at the front.

After each name was called, that particular person climbed onto a table and the crowd cheered. The Pope garnered a huge applause. The transvestite did too. The morals of the bar were split.

One of the Incredibles got a big cheer, as did the red Power Ranger. Batman put on a great display and his his applause was excellent. But the Joker stole the show. With his slick hair and evil stares, the Joker was clearly winning the bar over. The applause was thunderous. I knew I had lost but decided that I was still very happy that so many people loved my costume and wanted to talk to me about it.

My turn came to climb onto the table.

The manager helped me up and I turned to face the crowd. As I slid my Bender helmet over my head I became deafened by the cheering. The bar erupted as I held my cigar and waved. People stood up. An entire table chanted "BENDER! BENDER! BENDER!" at the top of their lungs. I snapped my magnetic cigar onto my mouth and the crowd doubled their effort! I was amazed! I couldn't believe how strong the love was for beer-drinking, black-jack-playing, thieving Bender.

I stepped down, proud of my effort. I thought to myself, "That was close, but I think I might've won!" After a short tally the manager came back with his mic to hand out the prizes. 2nd place male went to.... the Joker! Everyone clapped and cheered. The manager then handed me the envelope, the one containing the $200 cash prize, and announced, "First place goes to Bender people!"

The Joker gave me a knowing grin from across the bar. After a few pats on the back from my fans, I went outside and congratulated the Joker on a good battle. I talked to the manager again and walked around meeting more people. I thanked all the meatbags who cheered for me before heading home, the giddy winner of Boston Pizza's 5th annual Halloween Costume Contest.

One more:
Bender & the manager.
Link:
How I made my Bender costume.

Halloween Candy Oscars 2008 - Part 5

2008-10-31T09:45:00.013-04:00

Today, the wait is over. Halloween is here, and I've rolled out the bloody red carpet because it is a special occasion. This is the first time I've chosen a best chocolate for Halloween.

Is it true that good things come to those who wait? If you've waited this long to buy your Halloween candy, perhaps not, as all the good stuff is likely gone. But if you've stuck around to see the final installment of the Halloween Candy Oscars 2008 you're in for a treat.

Crummy candy companies like to shrink their standard chocolates to the tiniest sizes they can get away with. They call these dwarf treats "fun size" when the reality is they are not fun at all.

Everyone knows that with the exception of hamsters, small things aren't fun. Bigger is always better, so why are these candy companies trying to trick us into thinking small is the new fun? History will prove that society will not fall for this bit of trickery. Especially if companies like Hershey have anything to say.

Around here, it is always a challenge to find Halloween-themed chocolate. But when the rare few companies put the effort into making these once-a-year treats, I will always return the favour by buying them, eating them, then excreting them. One of the best finds on store shelves is the Reese Pumpkin. Roughly pumpkin-shaped, this peanut butter delight is bigger than a regular Reese Peanut Butter Cup. Other than the size and shape, it is identical to a regular 'nut cup, which is, fantastic. Its pumpkinish shape makes eating it an even happier experience, if that is possible. Only something gory or oozing could possibly make the Reese Pumpkin better.

Enter Palmer and their tasty Dr. Scab's Monster Lab body parts. The excellent artwork on the box features body parts bursting through a rotted coffin, and even a Jacob's ladder. When the outside of the packaging is good, what's inside usually follows suit.

Inside the box, each chocolate is individually wrapped in recyclable foil. Choices are double crisp fingers, ears & toes, peanut butter filled lips and fudge filled eyes. The foil around each chocolate is printed in colour, and specific to each body part! This attention to detail is exactly what I look for in my 'ween candy. At first I wasn't expecting these to be good. To be honest, I was expecting that cheap water chocolate that's so horrible you'd rather eat your own mother's disemboweled internal bits. But I was totally surprised to find that this chocolate is very, very good. It was extremely sweet and tasty to the max.

The chocolate (and the peanut butter for that matter) in each of the opponents is not really comparable because they are so different. So, it is a matter of your own personal preference. But, considering the environment, the Palmer chocolates are a no-brainer as the packaging is 100% recyclable vs. only 50% for the Reese Pumpkin. The Monster Lab's gruesome foil wraps for each body part are a real bonus and it's because of this prime Halloween detail that I have to conclude 2008's Halloween Candy Oscars by awarding the best Halloween chocolate to Palmer for Dr. Scab's Monster Lab body parts.

Two totally green, stitched-together-but-still-oozing-a-little-bit Frankenstein thumbs up for the sweet chocolate, and the wicked foil wrap on each one. This kind of treat really puts the big-name chocolate companies to shame as they put greater care into making kids' Halloween nights (and the belly-aching days that follow) super-duper special.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 4.
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 3.
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 2.
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 1.

Halloween Candy Oscars 2008 - Part 4

2008-10-30T00:51:00.014-04:00

Watching all these Freddy & Jason movies at Halloween has really got me in the mood for cutting and slashing. As you can see, with Halloween just around the corner, I'm really cutting it close with my Halloween Candy Oscars!

Sticking with that theme, I'm moving on to best gummy candy for 2008, starting with the gory body parts found inside the Spooktacular Mansion. The mansion is essentially a shoebox. On the box is a cartoonish haunted house surrounded by goofy-looking ghosts with their tongues hanging out, a couple of bats and a few truly evil-looking jack-o-lants, perhaps to offset the silliness.

For less than nine dollars you get 70 gummy body parts. These body parts include severed ears & noses, a poppped-out eye, gruesome disfigured hillbilly teeth and, confusingly, a pair of lips. But really, the lips may be the most frightening gummy of all as you feebly attempt to imagine of how this precision act was accomplished. Yes, the mystery of how the lips were sliced off will gnaw at your brain while you gnaw on the surprisingly un-bloody lips.

The colours of the Spooktacular Mansion gummies are simple and muted. In fact, there really are only two colours on the gummies: pink and white. But the eyeball contains a black pupil of death that's worth mentioning.

The overall detail on the Spooktacular Mansion gummies is not excellent. There are air bubbles and imperfections in them. In my twisted & scrunched opinion, however, this actually adds to the effect of the teeth, my favourite of the bunch. The overall flavour of the gummies is good. They're not the best I've ever had but there is nothing bad about them and if I caught you throwing one out I'd smack your face. You heard me.

Dead set (pardon the pun) on regaining the title after losing last year, Frankford has brought back their creepy coffin full of Gummy Body Parts for another go at it. For about eleven dollars (just below the average donation to GreenPeace) you get 100 gummies. Body parts have remained the same with a bloody nose, dismembered foot, severed ear, severed thumb, eyeball and set of Dracula fangs.

The Frankford gummies are very yummy. My mutated taste buds prefer their bloody flavour over the Spooktacular Mansion gummies. The colours are also very good. Blood is red, while skin tones are pink. Other details are white.

If you enjoy displaying your candy rather than eating it, Frankford wins, first with their superior detail on the actual body parts and again with their creepy, nifty and cardboardy reusable coffin display container. If you love all things Halloween and always wanted a coffin displayed in your bedroom but your mom wouldn't let you because uncle Christopher was starting to stink up the place, this is a good compromise.

These are the kinds of details that really send great companies over the top. For their superior Halloween packaging and overall better gummies, Frankford wins yet again as I award them the Halloween Candy Oscar for the best Gummy Body Parts. Two vampire fangs up for their good wholesome gummy flavour and the super special coffin they come in. Eating blood body parts hasn't been this fun since, well, last Hallowe'en.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 3.
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 2.
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 1.

Halloween Candy Oscars 2008 - Part 3

2008-10-28T22:18:00.000-04:00

Believe it or not, there are some people in the world who are not aware that Halloween is the greatest time of year. Surprising, I know. Yet, it remains a fact.

Speaking of facts, the Halloween Candy Oscars are the perfect place to discover facts about the best Halloween candy. Facts such as the best gumballs are ball-shaped. You see, the triangular ones are too sharp. Chewing those for a few seconds and your delicious gum suddenly begins to taste like a penny as the blood from your shredded mouth overwhelms your tastebuds. And while it may be Halloweeny to have blood pouring from your mouth, your gum simply doesn't taste very good.

Now, for Anyone who wanted to know what the best lollipop is for Halloween, you've come to the right place.

Back again is last year's best Halloween lollipop, the Creepy Pop by Jolly Rancher. These goulish pops haven't changed a bit since last year. Head options continue to be the lord of darkness (Dracula), an evil jack-o-lantern, a squiggling, wriggling ghost and a human head with no skin, muscle or flesh on it. IE, a skull. Flavours are identical to the sweet tastiness of Jolly Rancher candies, but renamed to make them frightening: Eerie Apple, Spooky Blue Raspberry, Wacky Watermelon and Goulish Grape.

Seems the desire to one-up your neighbour is universally consistent - even confectionary companies compete to outdo each other with the most radicallest Halloween candy. This is evident with Frankford's entry into the lollipop category this year.

Frankford has introduced Harry Potter Blood Pops. They are Strawberry flavoured and each bag is supposed to contain 28 lollies. Again, I had to count how many I actually got and again I was surprised to find another company that can't count. My bag contained a whopping TWO extra Blood Pops.

Harry Potter Blood Pops, made in Chile, are surprisingly similar to the deceased Charm's Dead Heads.

The packaging declares your mouth will turn blood red. The question is, will it? Can these suckers possibly live up to the exceptionally high standard set by Charm's wonderful creation? The answer is yes. In fact, upon eating one I suddenly found myself screaming "Oh dear God! I'm bleeding! I've sliced my mouth wide open with the razor sharp edges of this Harry Potter Blood... oh waitaminuite..." before realizing it was just the silly lollipop doing its job.

On top of that, they are surprisingly tasty. I am not a fan of artifical strawberry flavour and I was not expecting to like these at all. But I was very, very wrong.

There are good lollipops out there. Tootsie Pops are still great, and always will be, but they just don't fulfill the proper critera for Halloween. The Creepy Pops are totally excellent and I had a tough time deciding against them.

If a company can create a strawberry flavoured chunk of sugar to suck on that even I like, it's got to be good. It almost seems like Dead Heads have been resurrected for another year as Frankford has borrowed two of Dead Heads' key features: an awesome flavour oh-so-close to a Dead Head, and the way they turn your mouth red. For those reasons I have no choice but to declare Harry Potter Blood Pops the best Halloween lollipop for 2008. Two oozing zombie thumbs up for their taste and how they make your mouth totally bloody without eating an apple full of razor blades.

Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 2.
Check out Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 1.

Halloween Candy Oscars 2008 - Part 2

2008-10-24T18:26:00.013-04:00

Halloween is a time of year when children are encouraged to ask strangers for candy. Bizarre as it may seem, this is part of Halloween's charm. When else can one dress up as George Dubya and be admired? When else, besides the day you learn out to break off the tracking anklet, can you creep around in the dark without adult supervision? And when else, aside from robbing the local candy emporium, can you take home thirty-seven pounds of candy for FREE?

Yes, Halloween is like some surreal fantasy where the only thing sweeter than the treats are the girls dressed like Princess Leia in the gold bikini.

Upon unloading a haul of 'ween candy, however, it is disappointing to find regular corner-store gum mixed in with the other awesomeness. It's like walking into a Sci-Fi Convention only to find that every single person has, just like you, dressed as a Stormtrooper. There are no Princesses to be seen. That's why Oak Leaf's Spooky Eyes continue to be a welcome addition to Halloween-themed candy.

This year, as last, I was only able to find two kinds of Halloween Gum. The first is Bubble Brew, which is simply orange and black gumballs with simple pumpkin faces stamped, quite simply, onto them. Simple, really. Bubble Brew also contained regular boring gumballs mixed with the Pumpkin Faces gum.

The second is Spooky Eyes which, although made by the same company, are very different. The difference is the detail. Exquisite detail. Each bloodshot eyeball contains a pupil in the shape of a tiny skull and surrounded by little veins. This is really great stuff. What kid wouldn't like a veiny eyeball to chew?

The bag I bought was also massive at nearly 1 kilogram! In the top corner there was a deadly declaration that the bag contained 95 eerie eyeballs. The skeptic in me had to count them all to see how badly I got ripped off. As I approached a count of 90 I realized I was very wrong.

102 was the total. With 7 bonus gumballs, I was very impressed.

Sadly, Concord Confections still hasn't resurrected their Halloween Combo, despite 3 emails to them from yours truly. 2005's Halloween Candy winner, the absolute best Halloween gum anyone could possibly imagine, remains buried in the candy graveyard.

And so, for 2008, I crown Spooky Eyes the Best Halloween Gum for 2008. Two dusty mummy thumbs up for their exceptional skull pupil detail and tasty gum flavour that runs out in less than 90 seconds.

Check out 2008's Halloween Candy Oscars - Part 1.