Back And Into The Future, The DeLorean Returns For 2008

Knock knock McFly, anyone home? Haven’t you heard the news? The famous gull-wing doors and stainless steel brushed body sports car is back! Grab your skateboard and tune-up the flux capacitor because we are traveling back to the future. The DeLorean will re-enter limited production in 2008. Original production took place from 1981 to 1983 in Northern Ireland. With its short supply and high demand, the DeLorean quickly won the hearts of people across the world. Of course staring in one of the biggest movies of all time certainly helped its popularity.

Everyone remembers the silver bullet that traveled at the speed of light (or so Hollywood would have us believe). The car was so fast that paint couldn’t even stick to it! Ok, not really, but back in the day it held its own in the streets. These days, a 75hp car that does 0-60 in 10.5 seconds is certainly nothing to brag about. I think even a Hyundai could pump out better numbers. Although, if nostalgia is your weakness, then being able to purchase a brand new DeLorean straight from a shiny showroom floor may satisfy the kid in you.

Like many kids who grew up in the 80s, the DeLorean was my dream car. However, that childhood dream faded away over the years as my infatuation with the DeLorean was replaced with more powerful and sexier machines. With a price tag being estimated at well over $40,000 and performance specifications identical to those of more than a quarter of a century ago, not many people will be willing to shell out the dough for such a “weak” ride. Yes, I said it. The DeLorean is a weak ride by today’s sports car standards. Hell, it's weak compared to any car, sports car or not. It’s actually laughable, but still cool looking. And for that reason, the cool factor, the DeLorean will not only rise from the dead but it will live on! It has a special place in the hearts of technology lovers, making its comeback too exciting to ignore.

Keep in mind, this will be the same DeLorean from yesteryear. So more than likely the 2008 DeLorean will have the same cutting edge technology showcased in 1983 DeLorean. That means it will have a booming cassette tape stereo! Ooo, ahhh. Time break out your older sister's mix tapes from junior high!

Forgive Me For Shaming You

I once read that the cruelest thing you can do to a child is publicly humiliate them. Public humiliation is a form of emotional abuse. It’s a callous act. One that lacks compassion, caring and kindness. All qualities I’ve always felt I possessed. I’m a sucker for the kid that gets picked last in gym class. I’m sucker for the chubby girl sitting alone in a corner that nobody asks to dance. And I’m a sucker for the runt of the litter. The puppy that the breeder said would be disqualified from a show ring due to his back not sloping enough. The puppy that shook when I picked him up because he had yet to form a trusting bond with people. That’s the one I want. There was no “eanie, meanie, minie, moe”. It was simpler than that. I choose you.

People point when they pick someone. They also point when they pick on someone. So it’s rather ironic that finger pointing once again comes into play when we point blame. When we ridiculous and shame.

I have a tendency to humanize him, but what I did the other day was nothing short of inhumane. I know some people would say he’s just a dog. Although to me he is more than that, he’s like my child. The child I don’t have, don’t want to have and don’t plan on having for quite a few more years. He’s my child substitute and the perfect substitute he is. I couldn’t ask for more, yet I demanded more. I demanded something he isn’t able to give – to hold his pee the whole night long. I know, I know. At this point you are giggling at me. Up until now, you thought this was a serious post. And it is, to a point. I do in fact feel badly for posting that photo of my sad puppy the other day, the one with the caption that read “I’m A Bed Wetter”. I feel bad because…well, because I feel like I publicly humiliated him/my child. I made a mockery of his little problem. I made a giggle out of him.

In hind sight when I snapped the photo and came up with the phrase, I thought it was funny. But once I posted it, I immediately felt sorry for him and sorry for what I had done. I debated on taking the photo down. I felt I was being mean. However, I told myself I was being silly. The dog can’t read. He doesn’t know what even occurred. Dogs live in the now. It is people that often live in the past. So it’s the past that I must get over and to do that, I am publicly apologizing for my past mistake. I’m sorry for shaming you and shame on me for doing so.

You’re my little buddy. My boy. And despite the fact I was a good Daddy the night you wet your bed, I was a bad Daddy the next day when I made light of your accident. And that’s all it was, an accident. You had an accident and I made a mistake by posting that photo. I've admitted my wrong doing and freed myself of the guilt. Now lick my face to tell me I’m forgiven. So we can move forward hand in hand...er, hand in paw?

The Racist Wendy's Girl Logo Has Gotta Go!

A group of approximately 50 angry Gingers united and are seeing red! They came out in droves today to form a protest rally infront of a Wendy’s fast food joint in Manhattan. Their beef? They say they are offended by the Wendy’s logo. (Wait, hold your giggle and your “what the f*ck are you kidding me” comment.) They claim the logo is racist as it portrays redheads inaccurately, unfairly and the Wendy's girl has gotta go! The protesters belong to the NAARP - National Association for the Advancement of Redheaded People. To my knowledge, this is the first time the public is hearing their voices. With chants like “Biggie Size Bigotry”, their voices will certainly be heard and their message is clear with protest signs like these…

I have to admit, the NAARP has a good argument and reason for such beef. After all, how many redheads do you know that wear their hair in pigtails? Probably none, well I can think of only one. And not all redheads have pasty chalk white skin with dime size freckles on their face as the little Wendy’s girl logo would have us believe. So you see, there is reason to complain. No one likes being stereotyped. Blondes don’t like being called dumb anymore than redheads like being called fire crotches. Whether the carpet matches the drapes isn’t really anyone’s business. It doesn’t matter if you were born a redhead or you are a bottle redhead, you are still a Ginger kid in the eyes of the NAARP.

Famous redheads absent from the rally...Pippi Longstocking (a proud pigtail wearer), Carrot Top, Chuck Norris and Lindsay Lohan just to name a few. Apparently they didn’t get the memo.

Now I'm not sure how long the rally went on, but for those of you concerned, the redheaded protesters did spread on the SPF 50 to protect their fair skin from the mid-summer sun. (Remember Ginger kids, safety first.) Redheads make up just 1% of the world’s population and with the racial diversity in NYC, it’s probably an even smaller percentage. Despite their small numbers, it’s good to see them ban together for a common cause. And only in New York City could you see something like a Wendy’s racist logo protest while walking down the street. Just another reason to heart NY. Nobody will ever say the city is boring or uninteresting.

Want more? Then go behind the scenes of the Wendy’s racist logo protest with the NAARP mission report, photos and video footage on the Improv Everywhere blog.

Geek Booty

It's a simple game of "Hot or Not".

Hot...


Not Hot...


Any questions?

Saturday Stroll

Saturday Stroll

It was one of those rare summer days in Philadelphia when it isn't oppressively hot and humid, so I took full advantage of the beautiful weather and went for a walk (roll) on the trail along Kelly Drive, one of my favorite places in Philly.

What's great about the drive is that you feel removed from the city, while the Center City skyline reminds you that you're still there. Note the nearly-completed Comcast Center, which will be the tallest building in in the city. I also enjoy the other "scenery" if you catch my drift! Hey, a guy can dream, right?

I try to get out on the Kelly Drive trail, as well as the nearby Schuylkill River Trail as often as I can during the warm weather months, provided I have a nurse who is willing to walk with me. I do have to be careful when out in the sun. Some of my medications make me more susceptible to the effects of the sun, so I try to keep as much of my body covered as possible and wear sunscreen. At the same time, I must stay hydrated in order avoid potential heart complications.

But as long as I'm careful, I enjoy the opportunity to get some fresh air, a little sun, and did I mention that other "scenery?"

…And They Call It Puppy Love

He doesn’t mean to, but it happens. That's why it's called an accident. Sometimes it can't be helped. He’s embarrassed. He feels humiliated. He goes into a submissive state. He cringes his body, lowers his head and looks up with those big brown eyes. They are naturally watery. It often appears like he is crying as a single salty teardrop rolls toward a cold nose. He leaves out a small whimper, followed by a slight sigh. He waits for his scolding, but the scolding doesn’t come. He wet his bed. Again. That makes twice now this week. But just look at him. How can I possibly get angry? It’s his “I’m sorry” face. He shows it and I forgive. I forget. I cave.

He keeps me up past midnight biting my socks. My goal is to play with him to the point of puppy exhaustion. It’s then that he will collapse and the bedtime ritual begins. I finally wear him out. I look down to find a soft furry warm body lying palsied. A heavy head rests on my left foot. Induced in a deep sleep, the snoring begins. Now is the time I quietly scoop him up in my arms and carry him upstairs to be tucked into his bed. It’s what I imagine fatherhood must be like. It’s a small taste of it and I think I’ll enjoy it…minus the bed wetting of course.

It’s 2AM and he cries out. He needs to pee. Outside he goes to relieve himself. I attempt to tuck him back in bed, but he seems restless. For 20 minutes, he struggles to remain silent before crying out once more. Groggy and feeling irritated, I roll out of bed again and take him outside thinking he has to go #2. He sits in the backyard gazing up at me with a look that matches my exhausted expression. “Dude, poop. Do something. Please.” I don’t think he knows what I’m saying. So back to bed we go. Another wakeup call around 4AM wanting a drink of water and a final wakeup call around 5AM to let me know he wet his bed. Gee, could of it been the 4AM drink of water that caused the hour later bed wetting incident? Or should you of just peed a second time when we were outside for the poop mission that failed?

This time he doesn’t want to go back to sleep, despite the fact I was on my hands and knees cleaning his bed. The smell of urine is replaced by that fresh Downey scent. New blankets, a couple pats and 2 kisses later…and he still won’t go back in his crate! I know what I need to do. A good Dad always knows what it takes to sooth his young one. He likes his wrinkles rubbed. I take him on my lap, cuddle him up and work my magic. He goes into a trance when you moosh together his chubby cheeks. The brown eyes shut. The head gets heavy. Just a few minutes into the massage and he’s out like a light. Works everytime.

So why does a housebroken puppy wet his bed? I have a few theories, but I’m not completely sure. I just know that I have a lot of laundry to do now. I think my puppy needs rubber sheets. And I need more sleep. For such a little guy, he sure packs a lot of liquid! I’m looking on the bright side though. He will never shit his pants. Dogs don’t wear pants – duh. And even if he pissed and crapped himself this very second, I wouldn’t trade him in for the world. He’s my best buddy. My puppy. And I’m in love.

Monstrous Muscle

These are real pictures of real muscle. They are not Photoshop fakes. They are not the product of excessive steroid use or other performance enhancers. They are the real deal. A real medical condition that affects both humans (including children) and animals called Myostatin Deficiency. The genetic mutation is a deficiency in myostatin, which is a growth factor that limits muscle tissue growth. Without myostatin, body muscle can grow to monstrous proportions!

You may have seen or heard about the Whippet dog named Wendy with the rare genetic mutation. Her unusual monstrous muscle physic that has led to her being called the Arnold Schwarzenegger of dogs. Some professional body builders, such as Flex Wheeler and Ronnie Coleman, are said to “suffer” from this as well.

Interested in seeing more muscle bound freaks? (I use the word “freak” in the most loving way.) Check out this photo gallery full of people and animals with Myostatin Deficiency.

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