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ritualoftheancients · 1 year ago

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Ritual of the Ancients Chapter 22: Epilogue

by Roan Rosser

This is a chapter of a complete vampire novel with a trans-masc main character and a gay romance subplot. New Chapters are posted every Sunday. If you like the novel and want to support the author, ebook and paperback copies can be purchased here.

*****

Three weeks later…

I’d been staying with some mages while recovering from the silver-laced gunshots. They had examined me and the amulet, and also questioned me, Kevin, and Jack about the ceremony. They were trying to piece together what her ceremony had been meant to accomplish. I’d told the vampires about the ancient book I’d seen in Kevin’s memory, the one that Lady Ann had been consulting, but they hadn’t been able to locate it.

The conclusion so far was that the amulet had been what turned me, although they weren’t sure how yet. One thing that they had been able to determine was that the amulet was tied to my life force. So for now it stayed with me, hanging from a chain around my neck under my shirt.

There was a knock at the front door. I answered it, and found Jack standing on the front porch. He grinned as I stepped outside and pulled him into a hug. His arms tightened around me, pressing me against his chest. My backpack straps dug into my chest.

After a moment he loosened his arms and looked down at me. “Where’s your binder? I didn’t feel it.”

I grinned and let go of him to step back. “So it turns out that being a vampire does have a few perks after all.” I grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt and lifted it up to show Jack my perfect, scarless chest. “The vampire doctor that treated me for the gunshot wounds gave me top surgery.”

Apparently vampires healed quickly and without scaring, but they couldn’t regrow much tissue. If your arm got cut off and the severed arm was reunited with the stump it could be reattached, but if the arm got lost, you’d be spending the rest of eternity with only one hand. The good news for me was that it meant that after the doctor took out my breast tissue, it wouldn’t regrow. And vampire healing left me without any visible scars.

“Wow, I’ll say.” Jack put a palm flat on my chest, running it down my bare skin before pulling his hand away with a sigh. “Wish we had time to properly enjoy it. Looks like you’re ready to go?”

I nodded and dropped my shirt front to heft my backpack. “Let’s roll.”

“That really everything you own?” Jack asked as we went down the steps.

“Yeah. Since I was declared dead, I couldn’t exactly go back home and pack up my things.”

The vampires had used the incident at the park to fake my death. The official story was that I’d broken into the park to kill myself. I’d gotten cold feet and pulled the gun from my head at the last second. The gun had still gone off and the bullet struck a propane tank that had subsequently exploded, killing me.

Such a stupid way to go. It didn’t make me feel any better that it was a lie.

We got to the street, and I stopped short at the sight of Emily’s white sedan. The bullet holes had been badly patched, making it obvious he was still driving the same car.

I pointed to the car as Jack unlocked the car with the key fob. “Why are you still driving Emily’s car?”

Jack got in without answering and I threw my bag in the backseat, then got in the front passenger seat. The cloth of the front seats still had red stains from our blood. I gave him another questioning look as I buckled my seatbelt.

Jack put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb before answering. “As you can imagine, she was a little pissed when I showed back up with her brand-new car shot up. I ended up agreeing to buy it from her so she could get another new car.”

“I’m sorry.” I winced. “At least it’s still drivable.”

“You mean unlike my other car that got shot up?” Jack let out an amused laugh, letting me know he wasn’t mad.

I gave him a small smile. “I hope you blamed me for everything.”

“Totally.” Jack barked out another laugh.

I laughed with him for a moment before sobering. “Stacy said you went to my funeral.”

Jack’s expression hardened. “Yeah. Your parents are both alive and well. The rest… Are you sure you want to hear the rest?” We stopped at a red light and he turned to look at me. The red lit his face up eerily in the dark, and I shivered at the ominous look in his eyes.

“Yes. What was it like?”

Jack sighed, but the light turned green and he had to turn away from me to watch the road. “All the pictures they put out of you were pre-transition, and they only called you by your dead name with ‘she’ pronouns. Your mom recognized me from the Ren Faire when I tried to talk to her about getting your legal name on the tombstone, and she refused to talk to me. I’m sorry.”

I’d been expecting something like that. I thought I’d be angry at having my worst fears confirmed, but instead I only felt resigned. I’d done my best to make up with them before my death and they’d pushed me away. It didn’t matter now, anyway. That was now literally a different life.

Jack seemed to sense my conflicting thoughts and kept quiet, for which I was grateful. I watched the dark streets flash by out the window for the rest of the long drive to my home for the next little while.

The vampires’ house for new blood, as it were, was out in the middle of nowhere southeast of Portland. PCA owned ten acres of land that the house sat in the middle of. A safe place for new vampires to learn to control themselves and their abilities.

Stacy had explained to me that new vampires lived together here for their first decade as a sort of probationary period, under the supervision of an elder mentor vampire. There were two other new ones living here at the moment, in addition to the mentor. The oldest was coming up on the end of her time here, and was in the process of moving out.

In the meantime, since there were only supposed to be two at any given time and all the current residents had refused to share a room with me even temporarily, I was going to be relegated to sleeping in a light-proofed box in the corner of the living room. A coffin. I was not looking forward to it.

I’d argued with Stacy that since I’d already proved I could control myself, I shouldn’t be subject to the same restrictions as other new vampires. I’d lost. Stacy made it clear that I’d already been given enough exceptions to the rules by being allowed to live. Going through the introductory time out of society was mandatory for every new vampire, and that if I didn’t submit I’d be destroyed, control or not.

Just my bad luck that Lin was the current house mentor. She’d applied for the position on the basis of her boyfriend being the next vampire turned, but now was stuck with me—which at least explained her antagonism to me when I’d met her at the safe house.

Jack turned off the highway, and we rolled down a very long driveway that wound its way through the woods. At the end we came to a stop in front of a big old two-story farmhouse, remarkable only in the fact that all the upper story windows were blacked out. The only light came from a flickering porchlight that only served to make the house even creepier looking.

“Last stop.” Jack turned the car off and got out with me. While I stared up at the dark house, Jack got my backpack out and handed it to me.

“Don’t go!” I dropped my bag onto the pavement and flung my arms around Jack’s waist, bursting into tears. “Did Stacy tell you?”

Jack hugged be tightly. “That it’ll be a year before you’re allowed a phone? Yes. I’ll miss you a lot, but you’ll be fine. You’re my fierce tiger, remember?”

I pulled away and stuck my tongue out at him. “I’m never going to live down that nickname, am I?”

“Not ever, Tiger.” Jack laughed and ruffled my hair. I laughed with him, wiping away my tears.

The door to the house creaked open, spilling a square of brighter light out onto the porch. I recognized Lin’s profile outlined in the doorway. She had her hands on her hips.

“Time to go,” I said, leaning over to grab my bag.

“One last thing,” Jack said, stepping between me and the house. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Yes.” I grinned widely and got up on my tiptoes to give Jack a kiss.

“I’ll be waiting for you!” Jack called after me as I made my way toward the house.

I sighed deeply, stopping as I got to the porch and turned to wave goodbye to him one last time.

This was going to be a long year.

#original fiction #trans author #trans masc #urban fantasy #ftm #transgender fiction #vampire novel

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gruntydiecast · 5 years ago

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Casting Call: Vector W8

First off, I’d like to apologize for the fact that I’ve not been updating my Tumblr lately. I’ve been busy at work and haven’t had time to write something. To make up for this... I’m writing quite possibly one of my longest posts yet.

By popular demand, this is the casting you chose on Instagram for me to document: the Vector W8. Grab some popcorn, a drink or some music... and enjoy the read. This is also in some ways a car that time forgot, but it’s not a concept car... but I can break the rules because I made them.

When it comes to cars of the ‘80s, there is a debate as to what the best car of the era was. Many say it would be either the Lamborghini Countach or the Ferrari Testarossa. But I have something that is neither of those things. Today, we’re going to take a trip down memory lane and explore the car that attempted to elevate a small company to the dizzying heights of the supercar realm. This... is the Vector W8.

First, here’s a bit of background. The W8 was manufactured by a company known as Vector Motors, then known as Vector Aeromotive. The company was founded in 1971 as Vehicle Design Force by Gerald “Jerry” Wiegert in Wilmington, California; we’ll get to the full history of Vector in a post in the near future because it is honestly very interesting.

In essence, the W8 was a highly refined version of the Vector W2, one of the company’s initial prototypes (the “W” in the name stood for “Wiegert”). Wiegert wanted to put the W2 into production, but an economical downturn prevented him from doing so. However, by the ‘80s, Wiegert had eventually secured enough capital through public stock offerings and even various lawsuits, allowing him to chase his dream: to build his ultimate sports car, designed and built by his own company.

Design inspiration for the W8 (and by extension the W2) came from this green car: the Alfa Romeo Carabo (Hot Wheels actually did a model of this way back when). Its sleek, futuristic and aerodynamic design was perfect for Wiegert, especially with the aerospace theme the company was going for in the ‘80s.

Combining the sleek looks of the Carabo with the geometry and technology of fighter jets of the time like the F-15 Eagle, F-16 Fighting Falcon and F/A-18 Hornet, Wiegert and chief designer David Kostka set out to create what would be quite possibly the most insane supercar of the ‘80s, and probably still is now: the Vector W8. The term “Aeromotive Engineering” was used to describe the process of manufacturing this car, for the car used the newest and most advanced aerospace materials when manufacturing the W8.

The car passed the mandatory DOT crash tests and emissions tests. It used a semi-aluminum monocoque chassis which was epoxy bonded and riveted using 5000 aircraft-specification rivets with an aluminum honeycomb floorpan. The body was made mainly of carbon fiber and Kevlar. The car featured scissor doors, like a Lamborghini.

The beating heart of the W8 was this: a highly-modified aluminum resleevable 6.0L Rodeck twin-turbocharged racing V8 with variable boost pressure. The engine produced 625 horsepower and made 649 lb⋅ft (880 N⋅m) of torque at 4,900 rpm at 8 psi of boost pressure, and as if the Rodeck V8 couldn’t get any more ridiculous, it featured TRW forged pistons, Carrillo stainless steel connecting rods, stainless steel valves and roller rocker arms, a forged crank, a dry-sump oiling system with three separate filters and braided stainless steel hoses with anodized red and blue fittings. This engine sounded mad; click here to hear a Vector starting up and revving.

Yes, you heard that correctly; variable boost. The boost for both turbochargers was adjustable from 8 to 14 psi through a dial in the interior. And speaking of which, let’s talk about that next; because, if you thought the engine was already mad enough, the interior is on a whole other level.

As you can see, the interior of the W8 is mad. Fighter jet-inspired screen? Check. A million buttons everywhere? Check. Gauges? ...no check. And hang on... is that what I think it is? A Turbo-Hydramatic 425 transmission?

Yep, that’s right, and that just makes the car a lot more insane; this ridiculously powerful 6.0L Rodeck V8 was mated to a 3-speed Turbo-Hydramatic 425 automatic transmission. Next to it on the right was the handbrake, sort of shaped like the throttle on a fighter jet. Due to the placement of the transmission and the handbrake, the driver side doorsill is very, very wide, making it a bit tough for the driver to get in and out of the car. You will also notice that there are buttons on top of the gear stick. I’ll get to those now.

As if this car couldn’t get any more ridiculous. This is the screen of the Vector W8, with four different settings (controlled with those four buttons), marked “Main”, “Performance”, “Performance” again and “Chassis”. This is the “Main” screen, showing the odometer, fuel gauge, speedometer and tachometer.

This is the first “Performance” screen, showing engine temperature, oil pressure and temperature, the tachometer reading and various other metrics.

The third screen was the second “Performance” screen, showing the transmission pressure (because it had a torque converter) and transmission temperature as well as battery voltage.

The last screen was the “Chassis” screen, which showed a picture of the W8 which updated in real time when a door was opened, when the engine compartment was opened and so on.

On the other side, you will notice that the W8 doesn’t actually have a partition between the driver and passenger side footwells. So it is a little awkward. This car also has no glovebox; in its place is a... CD changer?

Yes, that’s right. The car came with an in-car stereo... and a Sony CDX-A2001 ten-disc CD changer which graced the entire right side of the car’s already insane instrument panel. This was a nice innovation, although it did came with one drawback; no passenger-side airbags. Good luck if you get into a crash riding shotgun.

Back to the interior though. It was upholstered in premium leather and suede, with electrically adjustable leather Recaro seats and featured a premium air-conditioning system. Some driving amenities such as power steering were excluded. The seating position for the driver was made slightly towards the center for better drivability.

The rear of the W8 was dominated by lines, and the rear sightline... wasn’t very good, mainly because of that gigantic wing. The license plate holder is located on the left and apparently may have been an afterthought. “TWINTURBO” is seen gracing the back.

The car also features a trunk which is just behind the engine.

As for the front... oh, right, the headlamps. They’re not pop-up... they’re pop-DOWN.

The car also has a storage cubby up front, although really, it wasn’t much.

Also gracing the front were windshield wipers, as you would expect on practically every other car. However, there wasn’t just one, nor was there just two: there were THREE. A moonroof was also standard. It also had sliding side windows like a race car, as well as power-adjustable side mirrors.

The logo on the side of the car was the only thing that really gave any indication as to what manufacturer it was.

The car had unique six-spoke “turbine” wheels fitted to Michelin XGT Plus tires; the car used 255/45ZR-16s in the front and very, very strange 315/40ZR-16s in rear. These wheels were apparently of a bespoke design made to the driver’s specifications.

In terms of suspension, the W8 featured double A-arms up front and De Dion tube suspension at the rear, located by four trailing arms that stretched all the way forward to the firewall. The W8 used 13-inch vented disc brakes with Alcon aluminum 4-piston calipers.

In terms of performance, the Vector shined; it claimed to be able to do 389 km/h (242 mph) and a 0-60 mph (0-97 km/h) time of 3.9 seconds. These numbers were never officially tested, but if true, these are very impressive numbers for the time. Okay, enough about the W8’s performance and figures; let’s get to the part you’ve been waiting for, the history.

The W8 was first introduced in 1988 with a sticker price of about $185,000, priced within striking range of European competitors like the Lamborghini Diablo.

One high profile owner of a W8 was this man: Andre Agassi, although he ended up giving the car a bit of a bad rap. Agassi had insisted that his car be delivered before it was fully prepared; Vector agreed to this on the condition that Agassi not drive it and keep it in storage as the car was adjusted for the various emissions regulations in place. Agassi did not listen and drove it and ended up burning the rear carpeting due to an overly hot exhaust system; Agassi ended up requesting for a refund, which was ultimately granted. I’ll let you decide who’s at fault here.

Car And Driver magazine also tested the W8, but couldn’t complete testing because all three cars they were sent somehow managed to break down in different ways, leading to even more bad publicity. However, not all is bad as Road and Track magazine waxed lyrical about the Vector, praising practically every aspect of the W8’s performance.

Vector was still going strong in 1993, selling W8s; however, Wiegert was already planning for a successor. That successor was to be known as the AWX-3, better known as the WX-3 (Hot Wheels also made a model of this one too), where the name stood for Avtech Wiegert eXperimental, 3rd generation.

I’ll get into more details of the WX-3 in a later blog when I receive my WX-3 from the United States. Production of the W8 ultimately came to a halt in 1993 as Wiegert attempted to put the WX-3 into production; however, as the company was engaged in a hostile takeover by a Bermuda-based Indonesian company known as MegaTech, production never resumed and Vector entered a sharp decline. I’ll get into the rest of that history in another post.

In total, twenty-two cars were produced; seventeen of which were customer cars and five of which were prototypes. The car is now worth over $1 million today; so, if for some reason you ever see a car that looks like this on the roads, drop everything and take as many pictures as you can, because you have just seen one of only twenty-two Vector W8s. Okay, now that we’ve gotten all that out of the way, let’s get to the reason why you’re here.

This... is the Hot Wheels version of the Vector W8. Named the Vector W8 Twinturbo in the Hot Wheels lineup, this casting was first introduced in the 2012 HW Boulevard series in the Ahead Of Its Time sub-series. This casting was designed by Manson Cheung.

The base of the W8 features no mention of “Vector” anywhere; instead, just the SKU is displayed: W4831.

The sides feature the text “VECTOR W8 TWINTURBO” and nothing else. Black lines streak across the back to represent the engine cover.

The rear fascia is nice, although my only real gripe is a lack of rear detail apart from the engine cover.

The front fascia is also well done, with “VECTOR” and “TWIN TURBO” on the windshield, although a lack of detail on the body apart from the side reflectors leaves me wanting more. The interior is painfully cramped so I can’t get any good photographs, but what I see are the Turbo-Hydramatic shift lever, the steering wheel, seats and molded pedals (those pedals are part of the base). The distinctive screen and CD changer are absent from the instrument panel, but of course, you can’t have everything.

Folks, I believe you may have heard of the term “One-Hit Wonder” before. This is exactly an example of that; the W8 only saw one release in the HW Boulevard series and has not been seen since. As a result, prices for the Vector have been steadily climbing on eBay and I don’t see them going down for some time; why don’t you take a look for yourself?

I hope this long writeup has given you a better idea on this turbocharged thrasher, and what is quite possibly my new favorite supercar from the ‘80s; step aside, Lamborghini Countach. As usual, I’d do something like this any day.

This article is the first in a three-part series I will call The Vector Saga. The series will document the W8, the WX-3, and the history of Vector Motors as a whole.

#hotwheels #CastingCall #vectorw8 #vectorw8twinturbo #mansoncheung #thattimeforgot #vectoraeromotive #thevectorsaga

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hencethebravery · 8 years ago

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⤀ “Falling Catching,” by @hencethebravery. | After a long, hot summer, Emma and Killian escape Storybrooke to enjoy all the aesthetic pleasures that fall has to offer. Post S6, newlywed road trip 2k17.

Notes: For CS Halloweek (“Seasonal”)! Please note, I am a biased little bean and had the babes spend some time in NY because NY in the fall is the actual best. The lil tale Killian tells towards the end is taken from a short story by Angela Carter in The Bloody Chamber. Many thanks to @the-reason-to-sail-home for her notes on this. Also on Ao3.

+ A few months after the wedding (and yet another curse), a few months after things return to normal by Storybrooke standards, the weather finally starts to turn. Summer takes an unusually long time to end; the hot, occasionally humid days persisting long after the first official day of autumn. By the end of September, the heat starts to feel oppressive. However much Emma had enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her skin, had vainly admired the smattering of dark freckles on the bridge of her nose and along the tops of her cheeks, her enthusiasm had begun to severely wane.

The only way she could seem to find relief from the heat were those few blissful moments standing beneath a freezing cold shower—those few seconds after she’d step into their adjoining bedroom, luxuriating in the warm breeze against her wet skin. Unfortunately, it never lasted very long. Despite lying perfectly still and mostly (if not completely) naked atop the bed, she would almost immediately begin to feel the sweat gather in the dip at the base of her throat, sliding down the smooth, flat pane of bone between her breasts.

Killian wasn’t generally one for bemoaning physical discomfort, living on a boat in a uniquely inconvenient world made him almost annoyingly patient with the irritating realities of being a human being. She could see the damp floppiness of his hair at the end of the day, the way the sweat would create an unpleasant looking rash between the leather of his brace and the flesh of his wrist. What he couldn’t really handle, apparently, was her complete lack of interest in being touched.

It wasn’t as if they’d gone all summer without indulging in one another, she could, in fact, recall many a time in early and midsummer when she could barely keep her hands off him; relishing in the slipperiness of their bodies, the saltiness of his skin under her tongue. But now, with summer officially over, and that sluggish, inescapable exhaustion that comes with too much sun keeping her from wanting to do fuck all—it’s time to admit it, enough is enough.

“I don’t care how resilient you are,” she moans into the hot, oppressive space above his shoulder, “there’s no way you aren’t miserable right now.”

“What is this new obsession with dragging me down with you, darling?” he asks on a laugh, trying to chase after her lips, only she will cry if he comes any closer, and he’s already far too close—she can feel the heat coming off of him in waves, and it’s not enticing. If anything, she’s feeling a bit nauseous.

“You’re too perfect, it makes me nervous.” He laughs and flops onto his back, pushing the hair off his brow. “Please be miserable with me.”

“I guess I’ll admit to this infuriating lack of being able to kiss you,” his eyes meeting hers over the gentle, sloping hills of pillows and tangled sheets between them. “Don’t tell me you don’t miss it.”

Despite the heavy note of sleepiness in his voice, he still manages to ignite a fire in her belly with the way he’s staring at her lips, and she has to actively remind herself that she will not be seduced anytime soon. Sure, it’ll feel nice in the moment, but very soon after she’ll feel like a swamp monster and have to take another cold shower.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, love.”

Against her better judgment, she takes a heavy finger and starts prodding at the soft, sweaty, fuzziness of his bare chest. “You’re a terrible liar, Killian Jones.”

“Ah, yes,” he admits in a whisper, his lips coming closer all the while. She can only just make out his features in the now near-darkness of their bedroom, but she can feel the enticingly light feeling of his lips against hers, and takes a moment to mentally chastise herself for being utterly weak.

“...But so are you.”

The heat breaks with a storm off the coast and the entire town breathes a sigh of unmitigated relief. It’s October, but better late than never. It takes a few days for her body to adjust to the drastic temperature change, and she manages to get a stuffed up nose and a sore throat in the days that follow.

It’s annoying, but it’s better than being so hot you can’t sleep properly, or touch your husband, or put on pants. She takes a day off to sit on the couch and drink water full of so many lemon slices her lips start to get chapped, and in preparation for the upcoming season, watches a handful of old Halloween-themed television specials that she hadn’t thought of in ages. There aren’t many pleasant memories of her childhood, but there’s still something about this time of year—the changing of the world, as if everyone’s getting a second chance.

There’s a lot about how the both of them have grown up that can make it challenging to relate to certain experiences that other non-magical folk might get equally as giddy about. Lily, for example, despite her propensity for grumpiness, was more than happy to indulge in some hot, spiked cider with her on the porch. She’d even shared the large, heavy blanket that Emma had pulled from the hall closet. There’s just a certain kind of magic to autumn—to the ending of one season, the beginning of a new one. The break in the heat is kind of like a jolt to your otherwise languishing system, and while she couldn’t necessarily ride on horseback growing up, or take a potion to instantly cure her chicken pox, Misthaven didn’t have apple festivals. Or seasonal coffee drinks, or oversized, fuzzy cardigans.

“Had a bit more to worry about, didn’t I?”

The kitchen is bathed in a soft, warm glow as she sits patiently at the table, her feet pulled up beneath her thighs to stave off the chill. She hasn’t really gotten sick of it yet, the sight of him at the stove, stirring or steeping something or other. The scent of some kind of spicy seafood chowder hits her nose in just the right way and she can feel all that stuffed up nastiness clear for a few blissful seconds, her mouth watering and stomach grumbling.

“So, what, you just weren’t paying attention? Do seasons not change at sea?”

He’s serving up two bowls as he scoffs at the suggestion, playfully scolding her ignorance of seafaring matters. “Of course we have seasons at sea, Swan, and I paid very careful attention, thank you very much.”

She wonders if it has something to do with modernity and culture. Killian makes it a point to consider the pre-modern age of this world, when people had to rely on the Earth for their living, when the day-to-day was far less easy than it is now. There just simply wasn’t time to indulge in such things.

“But you did have magic, didn’t you?”

“Oh, it existed certainly,” he chuckles briefly, wiping some excess broth off her chin, “but it wasn’t quite so easy to access as your parents and Regina make it seem.”

She wrinkles her nose at the deeply complex realities of living in a fantasy realm and backs away from that rabbit hole before she completely tumbles down, down, down inside, never to be seen again—choosing instead to consider this reality, and all its delightful, season-specific propensity. It’s hard to explain it and not sound like an idiot, quite honestly. And even though she feels shockingly comfortable speaking with Killian on almost any subject, it’s still kind of hard to really relate in words the sheer feeling of hearing dried leaves crunching under your feet.

Which is when she suggests taking a small vacation.

“Are you sure, Emma?”

Never taking a honeymoon, too anxious to leave Storybrooke as if everything would fall apart once she crossed the town line. Nervous about Henry, even though he’s more of a teenager than ever these days and most of their communication is via text. She knows her parents and Regina would be more than able to keep a handle on things, but still, the idea of an actual break seems like a fantasy to her. Something you imagine and dream about, but which is, ultimately, far too good to be true, and if you start thinking like that, Emma Swan, one or both of you will end up cursed or dead.

“Yeah,” she answers suddenly with a shake of her head, sniffing away the unpleasantness, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

The bug is confirmed drivable before they leave. The brakes get checked, the tires pumped full of air. The trunk is packed with duffle bags, the backseat is stacked with thick quilts and maps and a cooler full of snacks for the road. She’s an old gal, so the only musical option is the radio and a tape deck, which would suck, if you were a monster and hated Fleetwood Mac. Killian might hate Fleetwood Mac, but there’s no way of knowing until they’ve listened to Rumours about 500 times.

They leave early on a Saturday morning, before the sun comes up, and Main St. is flooded with a thick, damp fog. The air is cool and smells a bit like smoke as they drive through the woods towards the town line, the AM station on the radio crooning some old, classical concerto beneath the turning of the tires. It doesn’t feel much like a time for talking, so she reaches out to curl her fingers around his hook instead, his face flushing a delightful pink in the periphery of her vision. As they pass the sign for Storybrooke he emits an audible hum of relief, and her toes wiggle restlessly inside her boots against the gas pedal. So much better than magic.

They drive for about half the day before making their first stop, far too enamored with the infiniteness of the highway, the pine trees towering overhead—the sweet, heady scent of them seeping in through the cracked windows. The fog dissipates eventually, but the day stays grey and cool, and by some unique, human trick of the head she’s all but forgotten about what the heat had felt like, as if those last few, brutal weeks had never happened. They make it over the border into New York around noon, and despite all the coffee the inside of her head still manages to feel like it’s been wrapped in wool.

The bleak day finally gives way to a light drizzle, and Emma yawns as they pull into a local hotel, lovingly adorned with garlands of fake leaves, piled high with pumpkins and cinnamon-scented pinecones peeking out of a barrel. A lone ghost hangs from a string by the front office, and she feels a kind of delightful, anticipatory chill in her bones.

“Wait here, love,” he says lightly, stopping her from abandoning her post against the side of the bug. “I’ll check in. Back in a tick.”

There’s a vision stirring in her mind and it’s the unique, dark quiet of an unclaimed hotel room; freshly cleaned (hopefully) and awaiting new occupants. While hopping from place to place had gotten exhausting and depressing after a while, there was always something comforting about the expectant nature of hotels. Especially when there were nice people behind the counter, ignorant of whatever petty crime she and Neal had committed that day, no way of knowing the pathetic sordidness of her life. They would stand there, smiling and chatting behind the counter talking about free amenities like they actually wanted her there. We’re here to help you, they’d say happily, not a hint of bitterness in their tone, enjoy your stay.

Thunder claps as Killian closes the door behind them, the sound of the rain growing louder in its ferocity, lashing against the windows. She falls heavily onto the bed without removing a single item of clothing, her feet still trapped inside her boots, the creases of her elbows stiff inside her jacket. He lets out a chuckle from somewhere by her feet, his own voice carrying a hint of drowsiness, “While I would be more than happy to join you in this endeavor, you might be more comfortable without the boots—” he pauses and she can almost hear the way his hand comes up to stroke at his jaw, “and the jacket.”

“Are you flirting with me, Jones?”

Her voice is muffled against the comforter but he lets out a chuckle regardless as he begins to peel the boots down her legs. “I would never.”

He undresses her slowly, and while there’s almost always an attraction simmering beneath the surface, it doesn’t interfere with the platonic affection of this particular moment. Each variation of their intimacy has its own kind of magic; whether it be entirely domestic and fleeting, as if an afterthought, or deliberate and physical, a mad moment of almost painful lust. She’d taken note of it before they’d gotten married, but it had just seemed so much more obvious after the fact. The foreverness of their intimacy; all the different kinds she would be able to know and love with a certainty she’d never felt before.

Eventually he manages to secure the both of them beneath the blankets, but not before cracking open a window at the back of the room to let in the wetness on the air, the sound of the rain and wind a quiet, drumming soundtrack to the warmth of his breath against her ear, the beating of his heart against her back. She feels herself drift away in time with the sensation of his fingertips trailing up and down the top of her arm, her body sinking heavily into the pleasantly soft mattress.

When she opens her eyes, there’s a rich, buttery light falling across the carpet. For a moment, she wonders if maybe they’ve slept until morning, but a cursory glance at the digital clock on their nightstand reveals that it’s only been a few hours. It’s a pre-dusk light, the final, powerful rays of the sun reminding you that they’d been there all along, even with the doggedness of the clouds during the day. Killian is a sturdy presence at her back, a warm and blissful reminder of where they are at this very moment—asleep and away, with no one to bother them.

A gust of post-storm air slinks in through the open window and she can feel the bite of it against her nose, smell the impending frost as it crawls south through the mountains. She had noticed a cheap set of wind chimes hanging from the office door and she can hear them now, an inelegant clanging softened by the walls of their room, the insulation of the pillows and blankets cocooned around them both.

Without really thinking about it she adjusts herself against him, trying to better fill any of the empty space left between their bodies, and his arm tightens around her waist; her heart thumping with an overwhelming feeling of affection for this man she now calls her husband. His wrist skims lightly over her hip and she slowly turns to face him, hoping that she’ll have a few more minutes to admire him in the stillness of sleep, but predictably he’s already awake, his tired gaze mirroring her own.

His voice is gruff and quiet when he inquires after the time, and she whispers something about it being close to 5 or so before hushing him with a kiss. It’s not as stale as she’d expected, having only slept the few hours, and his nose is unusually cold against her own. Normally she finds genuinely concerned that he might have some sort of fever with how hot he tends to get in his sleep.

“Your nose is cold,” she whispers against his lips, trying to avoid disrupting the peacefulness of the moment. He grunts and playfully hides his face against the warmth of her neck, and she laughs loudly into the silence, relishing the feeling of his skin against hers. The rest of their clothing comes off easily enough, as they’d be down to nothing but their underwear anyway, and she spends a leisurely amount of time enjoying the sensation of his breath between her legs; his unshaven cheeks and chin sliding along her belly.

It’s another few hours before they emerge, the sun having set somewhere between his fingers sliding through her hair and her legs wrapping lazily around his waist.

The night is quiet as they make their way towards the bug, hoping to find a diner open somewhere for dinner, and she has to pull her jacket a bit tighter about her person to ward off the cooler temperatures of the evening. Not a bad way to start, she thinks happily as she watches Killian jump behind the wheel, his hair wonderfully mussed at the back, not bad at all.

The rest of the trip follows in a similarly blissed out, pumpkin-spiced state of carefreeness that she’s never really experienced in her life. By the many happy, confused looks on Killian’s face, she thinks it’s fair to say that he feels the same.

There’s one day spent in a state of near-endless intoxication, having stumbled upon a farm that offered apple picking and impossibly cheap alcohol all at once.

“This realm is a miracle, Swan,” he had been forced to admit, delighted at the prospect of their being apples and booze made from those same apples all on the same premises; the cider bubbly and sweet, it’s hard to forget it’s actually alcoholic, and they get lost in the multicolored infinity of the orchard until one of them’s sober enough to drive back to the hotel.

They take another day to hike through a particularly dense forest, where the sun can barely manage to break in and out between the leaves of the trees, coating the forest floor in vivid oranges and yellows, as if the whole world were on fire. It’s an unexpectedly strenuous hike, the land shot through with rocks and exposed roots; the topographical nature of the area made of steep inclines and narrow paths through the mountains.

Luckily for them it’s the middle of the week, so there’s few people to bother them, and it’s as if the world is empty with the exception of the two of them, the only sound being the crunchiness of leaves underfoot (just as satisfying as she remembers), the heaviness of their breath loud and taxed in the cold air. When they finally make it to the top mid-afternoon, the view is enough to effectively silence them both; the atmosphere becoming charged with an as yet to be determined significance that hadn’t been there before.

The mountains stretch on, and on, and on towards the horizon, as if they’ll never end, and there’s the look of the sea reflected in Killian’s gaze as he stands at the edge of a cliff, his lips parted in appreciation.

“I feel as if I could set sail,” he admits softly to himself; to her, to the howling of the wind as it whips around the mountain’s peak. It sounds like a confession, as if he were revealing some kind of hallowed secret, and there’s a feeling of honor in its profundity—that he’s chosen to reveal his misdeeds, his desires, the benign secrets that pass through one’s mind at any given moment.

She hums in agreement, coming up behind him to link their arms and rest her chin atop his shoulder. When she takes a deep, cleansing breath, the smell of him mingles with the air and the earth and if she could bottle it she would—the mustiness of the leather, the hint of apple on his breath, sweet and enticing. An illustration from Henry’s book springs suddenly to mind. The Jolly Roger sailing through the air, her wing-tipped sails almost indistinguishable from the surrounding clouds.

“Me too,” she whispers into his ear, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. No harm in taking a moment to indulge the lost, lonely children inside them both; the travelers and adventure-seekers they’d been before they had found a home in one another. Thinking about the past is so much easier than it used to be, not quite so heavy as it had once been. It probably has something to do with a renewed faith in the future. It doesn’t feel quite so painful, thinking about the person she used to be, knowing where she’d end up, who’d be at her side.

“Let’s get back before it gets dark,” pressing a firm kiss to his cheek, tugging him back towards the trail for the return trip, “I hear there’s some rum in it for you.”

A week or so before Halloween they find a drive-in screening a few horror classics. Thanks to Henry, he’s gotten a bit of a crash course in film, although he’s never really watched a horror movie or sat in a car to watch one, but he does seem to understand the general principle of the thing.

She spots an ad in the lobby of one their hotels, a stack of fliers next to restaurant menus and haunted house attractions. Apparently it’s been there for years, and when they drive up past the ticket booth the age of the place is undeniable. It’s a large swath of open field surrounded by tall, imposing pine trees, in front of which stands a large, slightly dilapidated movie screen.

“Explain the charm of this particular activity to me again?”

It’s only after she’s grabbed a quilt from the backseat and laid it across their laps, a full flask of mulled cider and a half-empty bag of locally-made caramels resting between them that he finds his answer without her having to say a single word. She’d had to spend some time curating his sweet tooth before and during the trip, not wanting him to miss out on some of the more crucial tastes of the season: all that sticky, sugary goodness.

She manages to stay awake all the way through Dracula, but falls asleep about halfway through The Mummy, her head in Killian’s lap, blanket tucked securely around her shoulders. At one point she realizes she’s falling asleep, which is odd—most of the time it happens too fast to really notice, only this time she can feel herself losing her grip on wakefulness, the growls, shrieks, and gasps growing less focused, the dialogue less comprehensible.

“Are you having fun?” she mumbles sleepily, trying to stay awake long enough to appreciate the heat of his body, the scratchiness of the blanket that smells like the inside of her mother’s large, superfluous trunk of cloaks and quilts.

He chuckles and tries to remove some of the hair from her eyes and mouth, “I do believe I am, love. Are you?”

There’s a suggestion that they leave for a more suitable bed, but she manages to utter a hasty refusal, wanting him to enjoy the rest of the night despite her own surrender. In her few, final moments of consciousness she manages to hear a gasp of surprise and delight at something that’s happened on screen; the sound of a crinkling candy wrapper, and it’s the soundtrack of his movements, unintentional and familiar, that lulls her the rest of the way into sleep.

The night before the drive back he suggests that they camp under the stars, and while she’s never been one to pass up spending the night in a soft bed, it’s hard to say no when he seems so excited. Not to mention the fact that he’s gone along with pretty much every objectively silly fall-flavored activity she’s suggested thus far.

He manages to find the most isolated patch of land he can, right on the edge of a sizable lake that reflects the moon in absurdly picturesque fashion. They’d spent most of the day hiking through the forest to find it, taking advice from the park rangers as well as Killian’s own attractive map-reading abilities. It’s mesmerizing—the sight of his shoulder angling back to pull it from his pocket, the way he glances at it quickly and easily, confidently turning one way and then another. She has a great many skills, but intuitively wandering through the woods has never been one of them.

They set up the tent in the event of rain, but he’s pretty determined to lay out beneath the stars, and she arranges their bedrolls, blankets, and pillows in an attempt to create a satisfactorily cushioned bed between their not-quite-so-spry bodies and the unforgiving reality of sleeping on the edge of a forest.

“Trust me,” she says at the sight of his indignant glare, “your back will thank me.”

He puts up a bit of a fight at first, but she ends up using magic to light the fire, as it would take significantly less time than rubbing two sticks together, and the frigid air is starting to make her grumpier than she’d like. The flames lick and snap their way towards the sky, the embers floating lazily upwards to meet the stars. She asks him for a story and he happily concedes, embarking on an oddly familiar tale about a girl who falls in love with a beast, only he doesn’t turn into a prince at the end. She’s the one who’s grown a lovely fur coat after their shared kiss, her nails sharp and teeth bared.

“I hope this isn’t some kind of weird guilt trip,” she says afterwards, tilting up her chin to glance at him from her cozy place between his legs. It rings a little too harshly of the worries that plague his own heart, the fear that he’s somehow corrupted her with all his villainous misdeeds, but he actually surprises her with a shake of his head.

“Not at all. The girl’s happy at the tale’s end, aye?”

Shaking free of her fine dress, the pins falling from her tightly coiled hair. The story ends with the pair of them running through the trees, howling at the moon.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Oh, you ‘guess,’ do you?” Playfully mocking her words, poking at her ribs in a way that proves unexpectedly delightful. It’s like she’s a teenager again, the way he laughs against her ear and she helpless to do anything but shriek gleefully and unashamedly into the night. “Howling at the moon are we, princess?”

Not a princess, she thinks, watching the clouds as move against the sky, the silver light of the moon intermittently bathing their campsite in an eerie glow, never a princess. When she throws her head back against his shoulder, a resounding, ecstatic cry on her lips, the past has never seemed further away.

A few days before they’re scheduled to make the trip home, she starts to get a little bit ahead of herself. Nervous at the prospect of the night before and the morning of—wondering if she’d spend the entire trip back thinking about what they’d missed while they were gone, what fresh hell they’d be expected to fix.

She knew she was sullying the last few days of their trip, which she wasn’t particularly proud of, but it was hard to ignore the impending reality of the fact. In a few days she’d be back in Storybrooke, back at the sheriff’s station, fielding calls from her mother and Regina, worrying about portals opening and spells gone awry. She’s sitting on the balcony off their hotel room, watching the sunrise from behind the mountains when she initially thinks of it. Which, she’s not entirely sure why she hadn’t thought of it earlier, it makes perfect sense, and honestly, the mere suggestion makes it feel as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders.

“Hey,” she exclaims in an excited whisper, straddling Killian’s stomach as he drifts in and out of sleep, “wake up.”

“Am I not allowed this one morning of peace?” he groans, his hand and wrist coming to rest on her thighs regardless of his apparent ire. She can remember the days when touching one another was this planned, careful thing. The wrong moment, a touch too firm or too light, and the whole thing might have fallen apart. She can’t deny the joy of noticing this particular touch, as if he hadn’t even thought about it.

“I had an idea.”

He opens one of his eyes, a twinkle of mischief there despite the rudeness of his awakening, and he grins. “How unfortunate.”

“Shut up. This is a serious idea.”

“Which is?”

It had seemed impossible to keep inside only moments earlier, with the sun shining on her face, the hot coffee running in her veins. Really, an incredible idea, almost mad at herself for having waited this long to think of it, only now that it’s here and she’s got his undivided attention she’s a little more terrified than she thought she’d be. What if he thought it was stupid? What if he refused?

“Emma,” he says firmly, giving her thigh a gentle pinch, “what’s your idea?”

Be my deputy. Be the hero you always wanted to be—that I’ve known you could be for almost as long as I’ve known you.

“I need a partner.”

He lifts a quizzical brow, imploring her to continue within this same vein of her vague suggestion, while she desperately hopes that her face is not as red as it feels. “Being the sheriff,” she elaborates, slowly finding the words as she continues, “David won’t be helping out as much anymore, and… I need someone I can trust. To help.”

“You think the Storybrooke denizens would be content with a pirate replacing their king?”

“He’s not a ‘king,’” she corrects quickly, rolling her eyes. “And I think you’ve proved yourself capable more than enough times.”

She tries to keep her gaze from seeking out the sensitive skin of his neck, the feeling of his heart beating beneath her legs, and instead attempts to gauge his reaction, consider what he might possibly be thinking in these few moments of torturous silence. Tries to imagine what he might look like with a badge at his hip instead.

“I suppose,” be begins carefully, “if that’s what you want, I might find it within myself to accept such a charge.”

“But is it what you want?”

He takes a few moments to think it over and she’s grateful he’s not jumping at the chance simply because she’s the one to have suggested it. He sits up rather abruptly, the hint of a smile on his face, and she has to hold onto his shoulders to keep her balance, her eyes meeting his as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Well? What do you say, Captain?”

Whereas the drive west had been wet and dreary, the return trip is bright and unusually warm as they make their way back to Storybrooke. The leaves have somehow turned even more vibrant in the intervening weeks, and she keeps her window rolled down the entire trip back, basking in the comfortable weather before it turns frigid and unpleasant.

The bug is packed once again, only there are bags of apples for baking, bottles of cider and liquor to keep them sustained in winter, and a few other odds and ends for Henry and her parents. The fear that she’d felt a few days earlier, the overwhelming certainty that she’d be headed back for disaster had slithered quietly away. Driven off by the feeling of Killian’s lips against hers, the familiar charm of his words against her ear.

“Of course, Emma. I could never imagine myself anywhere else but at your side.”

She glances over and smiles at the sight of him asleep, handsome as ever. It’s hard not to be suspicious when you find yourself with nothing to worry over, but she does her best to keep herself in time with the voice crooning softly from the speakers. Admires the leaves falling from the trees as they whiz by, back towards the sea. Back home.

#cs halloweek #ouat #ouat edit #cs edit #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan #cs: shit is breathtaking bro #@hencethewriter #@hencethebravery

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perfectirishgifts · 5 years ago

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Here’s How You’ll Get Paid To Ride In A Self-Driving Car

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/heres-how-youll-get-paid-to-ride-in-a-self-driving-car/

Here’s How You’ll Get Paid To Ride In A Self-Driving Car

How to get paid to ride in self-driving cars.

Self-driving cars are gradually getting ready for prime time.

To-date, the public roadway tryouts of self-driving cars have primarily consisted of having a human back-up driver at the wheel, serving to monitor the driving, and acting as a safety operator that can take over the driving controls if needed. This meant that any passengers in the self-driving car were still potentially reliant upon a human driver, albeit that much of the time the AI driving system was driving the vehicle.

You’ve likely seen in the news that some of the self-driving car companies are now aiming to remove the back-up driver and let the AI do all the driving. As such, the occupants in the self-driving car will entirely be passengers, going along for the ride and not taking part in doing any of the driving.

It is both exciting and somewhat unnerving to sit in a self-driving car during a driving journey and see a completely empty driver’s seat (for my eye witness coverage on what it is like, see the link here). Watching the steering wheel going back-and-forth, seemingly on its own, becomes mesmerizing and can stoke a certain amount of awe. It can also cause shivers up your spine as you silently wonder about whether the AI will do its job properly or not.

Do not though be misled as to what these latest trials portend.

An aspect that is not especially pointed out is that these experimental roadway efforts are within constrained or limited areas and otherwise relatively narrow in scope. Referred to formally as the Operational Design Domain (ODD), self-driving cars are currently crafted to focus on a geographically bounded area, and might have other stipulations such as not being ready to drive in adverse weather, or can only drive during daylight hours, and so on.

You could say that your mileage will vary, in the sense that the self-driving cars are first toying with confined ODDs and we’ll have to wait and see how this goes.

Eventually, after a wide array of ODDs are tested out and successfully achieved, presumably we might see self-driving cars that can be essentially unconstrained in that they are permitted to drive anywhere that you might be able to drive. I mention this aspect of driving where humans drive since the official standards indicate that a self-driving car is only held to the requirement of driving where humans are capable to drive, not necessarily having to be able to drive in circumstances that humans would not viably be able to drive (i.e., human-managed drivability).

It is generally assumed that ultimately the mainstay use of self-driving cars will be for ride-sharing purposes.

In theory, since there is no human driver needed for a true self-driving car, the vehicle can be utilized nearly 24×7 and continually be underway (excluding time for fueling, maintenance, etc.). There is no need to try and find a driver or make sure that a driver is suitable for driving a car. The driver, the AI driving system, willingly runs all the time, won’t get drunk, and can drive whenever so called upon to do so. Note that cars today are only used about 5% of the time, meaning that they sit around as underutilized and expensive assets for nearly 95% of the time.

Via ridesharing, most pundits predict that self-driving cars could be a tremendous moneymaker. There will be some owners of self-driving cars that are large companies such as the automakers, ride-sharing firms, rental car firms, and other corporations, and they will put forth a fleet of self-driving cars, hoping to make bundles of money.

Note that I have also espoused that individuals will also seek to own self-driving cars and be able to make cash accordingly too. This is considered a contrarian viewpoint and there are doubts expressed that this will occur. In any case, imagine that when you are at the office for work that your owned self-driving car is running around providing ride-sharing lifts, and likewise at nighttime while your head is resting on your pillow at home that your self-driving car will be earning dough for you. The rest of the time, you’ll ride around in your self-driving car for your own purposes, such as your daily commute or getting over to the local grocery store.

Either way that things play out, the core and the seemingly “obvious” assumption is that people will pay to take rides in self-driving cars, just like people do so for today’s use of human-driven ride-sharing and assorted taxi-related services.

There is no doubt that most of the time, you’ll be paying to have a self-driving car give you a ride. One hope is that the cost of using a self-driving car will be less than that of human-driven conventional cars, indeed a lot less costly, and thus there will be an opportunity for those that today are mobility disadvantaged to be able to become more mobile. That’s a certainly laudable outcome if it turns out that way.

There is a bit of an interesting twist that I’ve pointed out and tends to (again) be a somewhat contrarian viewpoint.

Here’s the intriguing and out-of-the-box aspect to contemplate: Are there going to be circumstances that people will get paid to ride in self-driving cars, and if so, what would the Top 5 reasons consist of?

Let’s unpack this claim and see.

Understanding The Levels Of Self-Driving Cars

As a clarification, true self-driving cars are ones that the AI drives the car entirely on its own and there isn’t any human assistance during the driving task.

These driverless vehicles are considered a Level 4 and Level 5 (see my explanation at this link here), while a car that requires a human driver to co-share the driving effort is usually considered at a Level 2 or Level 3. The cars that co-share the driving task are described as being semi-autonomous, and typically contain a variety of automated add-on’s that are referred to as ADAS (Advanced Driver-Assistance Systems).

There is not yet a true self-driving car at Level 5, which we don’t yet even know if this will be possible to achieve, and nor how long it will take to get there.

Meanwhile, the Level 4 efforts are gradually trying to get some traction by undergoing very narrow and selective public roadway trials, though there is controversy over whether this testing should be allowed per se (we are all life-or-death guinea pigs in an experiment taking place on our highways and byways, some contend, see my coverage at this link here).

Since semi-autonomous cars require a human driver, the adoption of those types of cars won’t be markedly different than driving conventional vehicles, so there’s not much new per se to cover about them on this topic (though, as you’ll see in a moment, the points next made are generally applicable).

For semi-autonomous cars, it is important that the public needs to be forewarned about a disturbing aspect that’s been arising lately, namely that despite those human drivers that keep posting videos of themselves falling asleep at the wheel of a Level 2 or Level 3 car, we all need to avoid being misled into believing that the driver can take away their attention from the driving task while driving a semi-autonomous car.

You are the responsible party for the driving actions of the vehicle, regardless of how much automation might be tossed into a Level 2 or Level 3.

Self-Driving Cars And Getting Paid To Ride

For Level 4 and Level 5 true self-driving vehicles, there won’t be a human driver involved in the driving task.

All occupants will be passengers.

The AI is doing the driving.

People will pay to ride in self-driving cars.

And I assert fervently, there will be circumstances whereby people will get paid to ride in self-driving cars.

How so?

We’ll start with the famous line that if you are not paying for something that you are getting, you aren’t the customer and instead you are the product (this is infamously a widespread saying, traceable to the 1970s and referred to people as they watched TV, though the exhortation was made especially noteworthy during the advent of social media).

Suppose a firm hawking life insurance wanted to get your undivided attention in hopes of your buying their insurance.

The insurer might cut a deal with a self-driving car fleet owner and offer the following. If a rider requesting a self-driving car lift meets various criteria related to the propensity to buy life insurance, and if during the ride a series of ads will get displayed inside the self-driving car, the insurer will not only cover the cost of the ride, they’ll pay the passenger to take the ride.

This might be a savvy deal for the insurance company.

Assuming that the cost of the ride itself is going to be relatively low, and the added cost to pay the passenger is relatively modest too, the insurer has that passenger in an essentially guaranteed confined space and can bombard them with ads. Also, keep in mind that self-driving cars are likely to be outfitted with interactivity, such as allowing people to take an online course while say on their daily commute. In that sense, the insurer might display a canned video ad, and potentially make available remotely a live human agent (a salesperson) that does an online chat with you during your ride inside the self-driving car.

Your first thought might be that you’d gladly take a free ride and cherry-on-top get paid, simply by having to ensure a sales pitch. Part of the reason you might be so willing to go along with this notion is that you figure you could readily ignore the ad anyway. All you need to do is put on your headphones and listen to music on your smartphone, or perhaps stare outside the window of the car and watch the scenery, ignoring completely the ads being shoveled at you.

Well, it might not be as easy as you think to disregard the ads.

Realize that self-driving cars will have cameras pointed inward, doing so for purposes of letting you do interactive discussions remotely, perhaps conferencing into your work while making the morning commute. Those cameras are also intended to catch people marking graffiti inside a ridesharing self-driving car or otherwise attempting to damage the interiors. All in all, this gives the owner of the self-driving car a chance to watch what is happening inside the vehicle during a driving journey.

This ties to the advertisements in that the deal might be that you have to be avidly looking at the video ads to get the promised money for being a passenger. There is AI that could easily do monitoring of the inward-facing camera and detect whether you are looking at the ad versus looking outside at the passing scenery or that you are staring down at a cat video on your smartphone. If you aren’t attentive to the ad, you lose the pledged payment and perhaps even will get charged for taking the self-driving car ride.

How do you like those apples?

Again, some might refuse to take up such an offer, while others might be quite willing to act on it.

Undoubtedly, this will raise hackles and consternation. This approach could be accused of being an elitist kind of scheme that entraps those unable to otherwise afford to use a self-driving car. Another angle is that it could be a privacy invasion of sorts since it not only would possibly capture info generally about you, there would also be a complete video and audio taping of you that the advertiser could presumably retain and reuse as they see fit.

Moving on, a variant of this aforementioned approach consists of paying you to go someplace in particular.

Suppose a high-end jewelry store is having a special sale. They want to attract customers to come and hopefully purchase a pricy necklace or a tony speckled bracelet at their brick-and-mortar store. There might be prospective customers that would come but do not want to drive there per se, which might entail dealing with parking of their car and coping with traffic hassles. The easiest way to get there would be via a self-driving car, which could drop them off directly at the door of the jewelry store.

Similar to the earlier points, the jewelry store might do a deal with a self-driving car firm to offer payment for the ride and the rider too. In this case, the destination is fixed. The self-driving car will pick you up at your home or office and whisk you directly and only to the jewelry store. This prevents those sneaky riders that might figure they could falsely agree to the trip and then reroute the self-driving car or have it stop sooner. Of course, you could still be tricky, perhaps once you get delivered to the door of the jewelry store, you wanted to go there anyway since it is at the local mall, and now you got a paid ride to the mall.

As an aside, I’ve suggested herein that those companies that want to get your attention are going to contract with a fleet owner of self-driving cars and do the deals in that fashion. It could be that the companies doing these types of efforts will purchase self-driving cars for their own use. Thus, rather than paying a middleman as it were, an insurance company or a jeweler might outright own a self-driving car or have a set of such vehicles and use them extensively. This would be a relatively straightforward cost-benefit calculation as to whether it is more prudent to do a deal with someone else or to buy and utilize the vehicles on their own.

Shifting gears, consider other ways in which you could get paid to ride in a self-driving car.

For this next example, it is a bit of a twist so please bear with me for the context.

One issue that will arise with true self-driving cars is the riding around of children inside self-driving cars and doing so without any in-car adult being present (see my analysis of this, at the link here). A busy parent wants to send their kids over to the school and thus plunks them down into a self-driving car, waves goodbye, and the vehicle presumably takes them directly non-stop to the school grounds. Some people say they will never allow their children to ride without an adult present, worried that the kids might go awry, possibly try to jump out of a moving car, or maybe have a mugger that tries to get into the vehicle, and other such horrifying possibilities.

Nonetheless, the convenience of having kids riding in self-driving cars is going to be alluring. Furthermore, potentially, the parent can at least watch the kids via the inward-facing cameras and be able to interact with them while they are on their driving journey. Of course, there is little the parent can do if something adverse occurs within the vehicle, but at least the parent will be aware and could take some remote action.

Anyway, this build-up brings us to the next reason that you might get paid to ride in a self-driving car.

You could get paid to be a kind of chaperon or “nanny” overseeing kids that are riding in a self-driving car. Having an adult present in the vehicle would be handy in case something goes kilter such as a child starts to choke on some candy they just ingested or for handling other such situations.

I’ve predicted that this could become a full-time occupation for those interested in performing the simple act of riding along in self-driving cars, serving as a rider with a purpose. Think of it this way. We currently know that a human driver in a ride-sharing car can potentially aid the passengers in their car. The true self-driving car lacks that human driver. Ergo, perhaps it makes sense to add a human into the vehicle, a responsible adult, aiming to assist kids when they go for a ride (or, aid others such as the elderly that need an extra hand, and others).

Just as today’s ride-sharing drivers can work full-time or part-time, these ride-a-long chaperons could work full-time or part-time. They might be listed on various ride-sharing networks and in a coordinated fashion be arranged to be inside the self-driving car for a lift that you’ve requested. When the self-driving car arrives at your house to pick up the kids, you meet the chaperon, and then away they all go inside the self-driving car.

Unimaginable?

I think it is quite imaginable and indubitably practical.

Consider college students that need to earn some extra money. In-between taking classes, they ride around throughout the day, ready and working as a child-watching chaperon. Any unused time is spent studying for their classes or even taking classes online while traveling inside the self-driving car.

Anyway, it is a means to be paid for riding in a self-driving car, though admittedly in this use case you are working as a chaperon while doing so.

The next reason for getting paid to be a passenger in a self-driving car is a bit gloomy, so get yourself ready for this one.

Suppose that some people are fearful of using self-driving cars. They vow they will never set foot into a self-driving car. It just seems eerie to not have a human driver and therefore they refuse to try it out.

A fleet owner of self-driving cars might decide that to increase the base of users or customers, they will run a special promotion. Take a ride in a self-driving car and you’ll get paid for doing so. It might be that the deal is only valid during the slow times of the day or on days of the week that ridership in the self-driving car is quite low.

This is the classic give-a-taste and hook-the-fish kind of gambit.

A variant on this approach involves the possibility that self-driving cars might find themselves in a fiercely competitive landscape.

Imagine that “desperate” fleet owners of self-driving cars are trying to woo people away from taking human-driven ridesharing. Or perhaps there is a glut of self-driving cars in a given area, being run by differing fleet owners, and so one of them decides to stand out by offering a promotion by offering (temporarily) to pay riders and hopefully create a semblance of customer loyalty.

Endless permutations.

The last reason and one that preferably will not arise involves the chances that a self-driving car gets into a deadly incident and causes widespread dread, sparking a tsunami-like reaction of people avoiding the use of self-driving cars.

One means to get people to get back into the saddle, as it were, might be that after presumably making AI system changes to try and ensure that no such incident will recur, some fleet owners might initially be willing to pay people to start riding in their self-driving cars, attempting to prime the pump all over again.

Conclusion

Okay, now that we’ve covered some of the major reasons why you’ll get paid to go for a ride in a self-driving car, we can rank them as follows:

1) To be served ads during the ride

2) To be taken to a specific destination as a prospective or existing customer

3) To be a paid chaperon

4) To give you a taste of wanting to ride in self-driving cars

5) To overcome reluctance to use self-driving cars

In case you were thinking you could become rich while getting paid to ride in self-driving cars, I’d caution that you are perhaps overthinking the matter and wishfully overstating the money to be made by doing so.

Probably, your better chance for riches might be by devising ways for people to get paid to ride in self-driving cars and then arranging for it to happen, taking a fee for setting things up. Alternatively, you might simply use the time will inside a self-driving car, while getting paid to be a rider, by contemplating other ways to get rich.

That would be quite a feat, namely while being paid to ride, you have a eureka moment and identify some altogether other means to become rich.

As a helpful heads-up, just don’t blurt out your idea while inside that self-driving car, since the AI might hear you, and the next thing you know, your idea has been stolen and used by someone or something else.

Be wary of the AI.

From Transportation in Perfectirishgifts

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morganbelarus · 6 years ago

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YouTube’s ‘Shitty Robot’ Queen Made Her Own Tesla Pickup Truck

YouTuber Simone Giertz is known as the queen of "shitty robots," the kind of robots that make a mess of chopping vegetables, serving soup, cutting hair, writing holiday cards, and wiping your nether regions. Her inventions are clever, the robots intentionally excessive and comically inept. Hilarity ensues; Giertz curses, to the chagrin of her advertisers. But she keeps churning out machines as well as videos, exploring a variety of building projects in her San Francisco workshop—even as she battles a brain tumor.

Which makes Giertz’s newest project even more remarkable—and functional. It marks a kind of turning point for Giertz, who says she’d like to focus more on building cars, and not the shitty kind. Today, she revealed an electric pickup truck she calls Truckla. It’s a heavily modified Tesla Model 3 and, as Giertz’s stylized promotional video states, it’s available exactly nowhere. Only Giertz will drive it, but she insists it is indeed drivable. (She’s also publishing a 31-minute video detailing how she built it.)

“This is going to be my daily car, which in some ways is fucking stupid,” Giertz says.

Simone Giertz

Giertz, who’s Swedish, says the EV pickup truck has been a dream of hers ever since she got her US driver’s license a couple of years ago. Elon Musk has been working on an official version: Last week, the Tesla CEO said the “cyberpunk truck” will make its official debut “probably some time towards the end of summer,” though the man isn’t much for hitting deadlines. Giertz decided not to wait. If there was ever a subtweet, going out and building the thing before Elon Musk managed to might just be the ultimate.

Around this time last year, Giertz partnered with a friend, engineer Marcos Ramirez, to start sketching out what a Model 3-turned-pickup-truck would look like. Two other YouTubers, Laura Kampf and Rich Rebuilds, got involved. Other friends and family pitched in on the project in exchange for “high fives and food,” Giertz says. Their initial goal was to launch Truckla by the fall of 2018.

Then Giertz’s noncancerous brain tumor returned, after it was previously removed through surgery. She underwent several weeks of radiation therapy early in 2019, some of which she has vlogged about on YouTube and Patreon. During that time, she continued to work on both “Shitty Robots” and the Truckla.

“One of the initial designs we had was to essentially strip everything from the midway and back, and just put in a flatbed,” Giertz says. “There are a lot of trucks that look like that, with a chassis up front and then a bare bones flatbed. But I didn’t like the look of that. So we decided to salvage as much of the back half as possible and try to build it into more of an El Camino pickup truck.”

The Truckla is “usable now, but fully drivable in July.”

Giertz says the EV made for an easier conversion than an internal combustion engine-powered car, because the battery adds structural integrity. The team did have to add some reinforcement to the beams at the top of the truck, which will allow it to hold together and “not, just, taco,” Giertz says. “I mean, I love tacos, but a Tesla taco would not be the best investment.” She plans to do some additional waterproofing to protect the battery pack. The Truckla is “usable now, but fully drivable in July,” Giertz says.

“This is going to be my daily car, which in some ways is fucking stupid,” Giertz says. Her other ride, which she refers to as Cheese Louise, is a yellow Sebring-Vanguard Citicar, and is easily recognized. “I said, the next car I get, I need to get a very anonymous car like a Prius, so I can park it outside of my house and workshop,” she says.

“And then I realized, this is not that car.”

Original Article : HERE ; This post was curated & posted using : RealSpecific

YouTube’s ‘Shitty Robot’ Queen Made Her Own Tesla Pickup Truck was originally posted by MetNews

#MetNews

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junker-town · 7 years ago

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4 reasons why the Genesis Open should be the best PGA Tour event in years

Tiger Woods makes his first visit in 12 years to the historic Los Angeles PGA Tour event. But there’s much more to go all in on at Riviera this week.

The 2018 Masters is still 50 days away but that’s just fine because the first major championship of the men’s season begins this week.

We’re having a bit of cheeky fun, but the Genesis Open in Los Angeles is set up to be one of the most exciting PGA Tour events in years. From a hype standpoint, it has to the best on the “regular season” schedule this year. The shots still need to be hit and the stars still need to align — it could turn into a runaway bore with some name the wider sports world has never heard of winning. That happens in golf. We’re not arguing this has the stakes or importance or intensity of a major. But sitting here at the start of the week, it’s hard not to be fired up for this tournament in a way that almost approximates that of a major week.

The PGA Tour doesn’t actually run any of those major championships (if you’re a close, or even semi-close follower of golf, you know this). This is not an intuitive thing a casual sports fan would really think about often. But the majors, the events that rate the highest and are the most coveted, are actually run by four different ruling bodies. They reap all the benefits of owning and operating them, while the Tour labors week to week on events that might not get as much run (but still make plenty of cash).

Tthe PGA Tour gets its fair share of loaded weeks between The Players, the WGCs, and the FedExCup Playoffs. But after that, it can be hit-or-miss on a schedule with 49 (sure seems like a lot!) official events. You’ve got tourneys that succeed because of the market. You’ve got some that succeed because of the course. Others elbow out their competitors because of the date they fall on the calendar.

But rarely does it come together so beautifully like it has this week. Mike Antolini, the tournament director this week, knows they’ve struck gold. “When you have Riviera, you have the west coast swing, and you have the history, and you have LA and you have California in February, the stars really align.” Antolini is the VP of Championships for Tiger Woods’ foundation and his TGR Live events business, which runs and operates multiple tournaments both on and off the PGA Tour. Some of those tourneys may have to hustle and grind for a field or a venue. This is not one of those tourneys but even by Riv standards, 2018 is exceptional.

Photo by Paul Mounce/Corbis via Getty Images

The first tee at Riv, with the fans crowding on every balcony and terrace around the elevated box, is as good as it gets.

I am here being my usual cynical self wanting to find a weakness or a reason to be critical!. The stakes are lower and the majors are still off in the distance. But I also think in a way that’s what amplifies the hype — it’s mid February, the Masters is 50 days away, and the anticipation for a golf event just should not be this high. It’s come together this week, however, and here are a few reasons why.

1. Tiger

For almost two decades now, the easiest way to categorize PGA Tour events is by the very manichean designation of a “Tiger tourney” and “non-Tiger tourney.” The ones Tiger patronized were immediately elevated in stature. The fields became stronger. The cash flowed. The ratings soared. And Tiger often won.

Tiger’s schedule became mostly predictable and it created two classes over the years. You knew he’d be at Torrey Pines, Doral, Bay Hill, Memorial, Firestone etc. You knew where he wouldn’t be, too.

Riviera became one of those spots that was cast aside. Tiger has not played here since 2006. That hiatus hurt — this is arguably the best course on the schedule and it’s his “hometown event,” the place where he made his first PGA Tour start as a teen in 1992. Antolini said getting back here and serving as host “means a lot in his career legacy.”

A 16-year-old Tiger making his PGA Tour debut at Riviera in 1992.

Whether it was the date, an underwhelming track record, or a course layout and conditioning that Tiger just got uncomfortable with over the years, the Riv got dropped. But now Tiger is back after more than a decade away. His presence also deepens the field around him. Dustin Johnson, the world No. 1 and defending champ, described as only he can, how Tiger “definitely brings an aura to an event that makes it a little more special.”

Tiger is not just back at Riv, he’s back on Tour after another yearlong injury layoff. He’s made just one start so far and it resulted in a made cut and top 25 finish. The event this week could be at dirt patch against the weakest field of the year and the circumstances of this being just his second PGA Tour start in the comeback would turn the hype all the way up. But it’s not at a dirt patch, it’s at ...

2. Riviera

I am not a golf architecture expert and I certainly won’t try to fake it here. I leave that to Fried Egg Andy, Geoff Shackelford, and several other voices that are really impacting and hopefully molding the game in a positive way we may not fully appreciate right now.

But what I do know is that Riviera is a fun ass golf course. It’s fun to play if you suck. It’s fun to play if you’re good. And it’s fun to watch the absolute best take it on.

“We’re in a very fortunate position when we look at the field,” Antolini said. “Riviera is such a beloved course with the world’s best players. I mean, they love it.”

The interesting holes come one after another from a viewing perspective. There’s the coolest opening tee box view on Tour. There’s a beast of a redan par-3. There’s a donut green with a bunker in the middle of it.

Photo by Chris Condon/PGA TOUR

Rory McIlroy hits out sideways from the famous bunker in the middle of the 6th green.

There’s a short drivable par-4 with a crazy green the size of a fingernail. It’s arguably one of the four or five best par-4s in the world. There’s an awesome 18th hole amphitheater as the course marches out of a canyon and back up to the clubhouse perched above it all. The crowd there gets wild.

Even if you know nothing about architecture, you can still see the intrigue and excitement in these holes.

On the PGA Tour, we rarely get to see golden age designs with bones like this George Thomas classic. It’s got the history that most of other regular PGA Tour stops wish they had. It’s hosted majors and NCAA championships and the most prestigious amateur titles. It’s as good as it gets on the PGA Tour schedule.

3. Los Angeles

Los Angeles should be one of the most important markets in professional golf. But we just don’t come here often enough. There’s this annual stop early in the first quarter of the season, when the rest of the country is frozen, and that’s it. The two US rotating major championships have skipped out on LA, too. Riviera hosted the 1948 U.S. Open and the 1983 and 1995 PGA Championships. That’s it. The drought will come to an end in 2023, when Los Angeles Country Club opens its gates for what should be a delectable U.S. Open.

With this being the one chance LA has for men’s pro golf, every year the gallery has a little extra juice. “Outside the ropes, a lot of celebrities come and watch,” said Antolini. This week, the event overlaps with NBA All-Star weekend. It’s not going to compete with that, but it certainly adds to the circus in a town that’s already a circus. Expect to see a few of those famous NBA faces join the crowds at Riv.

This may be superfluous stuff that the golf diehards don’t care about, but anything that can add to the entertainment value and hype is a welcome addition for one week a year. It’s LA. Tiger is in town. And so are the most famous pro athletes in the country. Whatever the PGA Tour can draft off of to make this more of a show is good.

4. The Field

The field is always the ultimate draw for an event. We can talk about markets and architecture and history, but it’s the field that matters most. This is about as good a field as you could ask for in a non-major or non-WGC event. It’s got everything — the young stars, veterans, the top Americans, a distinctly beefed-up Euro and international crowd. Some names just so the point is driven home:

Tiger

Phil Mickelson

Dustin Johnson

Jordan Spieth

Rory McIlroy

Justin Thomas

Antolini hailed the LA destination as a draw for International and Euro stars to use as a starting point for stateside play and perhaps a drive toward a PGA Tour card. A crop of elite Euros that you may come to hate at the Ryder Cup in September are here:

Tommy Fleetwood

Thomas Pieters

Rafa Cabrea-Bello

Alex Noren

Martin Kaymer

This is still a small sampling of how loaded it is. Adam Scott is beginning his PGA Tour season here. Haotong Li, the first real phenom from China and one of the most important players in the game, was given an exemption just a day after he beat Rory to win in Dubai. There are up-and-coming Americans like Patrick Cantlay and reigning rookie of the year Xander Schauffele, Daniel Berger, Kevin Kisner, Matt Kuchar, and on and on.

There are the headliners for casual fans and people who usually don’t care about golf. There are the hipster talents that the diehards crave. There is something for everyone. US Ryder Cup captain Jim Furyk got an exemption and will start his year here, and it’s conceivable that 10 (or if you want to get crazy, maybe even 11) of his team members are in the field this week.

I am not some grizzled veteran golf writer, but I have been doing this for several years and it takes a lot to get me this hyped for a regular PGA Tour stop. It can go sideways and we may get little-to-no drama on the actual course. But starting out the week, we have the perfect confluence of venue, field, and Tiger that should make this Genesis Open one of the best PGA Tour events in years.

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weesaul · 9 years ago

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Thoughts on Stuff Reprise...

Being abruptly removed from my former residence, I have come to realize just how much I never had to think about. Living in one location for 17 years all of the basic necessities were already at hand. Need some spices – already there. Need a condiment – already there. Need some toilet paper – already there. Need a bowl or plate or glasses – already there in ample supply. As I have already mentioned the move was rather abrupt and not much thought went into everything I would need on this Grand Experiment – like toilet paper. The first night in the new abode I came to the startling realisation that there is no toilet paper to be found anywhere within my spacious studio apartment. Not a single solitary sheet anywhere. Fortunately for me I did have a box of snot tissue in the van (which is still not in my name at this point in time), and this worked in a pinch. The first official roll of toilet paper that resided in my abode was ‘borrowed’ from the Workplace of Despair – a fine institutional grade of tp…

As for other materials that would make my life easier, I am still in the need of bowls, plates, and glasses. Most kitchen utensils are absent from the spacious kitchen… living room… dining room… bedroom… I am slowly and steadily acquiring everything I am lacking though this may take me a great deal of time. Though time is growing in shorter and shorter supply as I move closer to the inevitable…

In the Year of our Lord Two-thousand and sixteen ended just as screwed up as one would image with the only vehicle in my possession (though it is still not technically mine) decided to end the year with a bang and shed the troublesome exhaust system. And I shall ponder the glories of the aforementioned year whilst I sit in the waiting room of ye olde local service station awaiting news on whether it will live or be buried deep in the grassy fields here in the scenic Laurel Highlands. Over the 150,000 miles of its life, it has been for the most part a reliable vehicle with just a couple minor problems that are easily worked around – the passenger side sliding door refuses to stay open and will close as soon as it is open completely, the side vent windows will stay open until manually pushed shut, etc. It has been through multiple states of this great country though an overwhelming number of miles have been spent going to and from the Workplace of Despair and delivering kiddoes to and from school…

So what does the year to come have in mind for me? I suppose that I shall find out as the year progresses. Will it bring joy or heartbreak? Will it be filled with fun and excitement or will be bring loneliness and sorrow? ‘Tis much like every other year where I do not have any idea what I will be facing in the twelve months ahead. I had no idea twelve months ago that my residence would be changed and that I would find myself on the verge of being single again and that I would still be putting in far to many hours at the Workplace of Despair. I did not know, I had no clue, and yet it all happened. I had no idea that some of my musical heroes of my youth would pass on. I had no idea that the family vacation would be the worst vacation we ever experienced though most of the fault lays with the person who made the arrangements. Who in their right mind would book a four day vacation and not take into consideration travel time, which consumed half of the four days? Who would book a four day vacation at Disney World where only two days were actually spent at Disney World? For anyone who has ever been there, how much can actually be accomplished across all the various themed parks at Disney World in two days? How much can be seen whence about half of the two days were spent in a driving rain that closed most of the attractions? I understand that the rain could not have been foreseen whence the vacation was booked, but two days did not provide an enjoyable situation being the two parks that chosen had to be experienced in rapid fashion – no time to relax and enjoy a vacation that should be relaxed and enjoyed…

And so I sit in the local service station awaiting the final tabulation to get ye olde van legally drivable within this great state - multiple issues and multiple part replacements. ‘Tis a fine way to start the new year with absolutely no disposable income left to my name – not a penny. ‘Tis a fine time in which I find myself. And I would have never guess twelve months ago that I would be flat broke as I move into the new year. S’pose I could sell some body parts to get me through until the next paycheck. ‘Tis possible I can sell my soul to the devil, but that would not be a wise return on my investment to save a ten year old van with 150,000 miles upon its tired tires. Maybe I could whore out my body to the highest bidder though who would want this old body with 52 years of mileage upon it?

And I sit here in the Waiting Room of Despair watching the Price is Right and having a large Michelin Man staring at me watching my every move. But the coffee is free so all is not really and truly bad. So here I sit giving my time away so I can pay to fix a vehicle that is not even mine, but ‘tis the only means I have to get to the Workplace of Despair so that I can make money to give to others for things that are not even mine. Ain’t life grand?

Whilst sitting here killing time as the bill continues to get larger, I may has well throw in a brief outline of events that unfolded last year that led me to the current state I am in. On August 27 there was a reunion held for folks who attended a junior high school that is no longer there. It was not a school I attended, but rather a school that the boss attended. I was to attend so I could have something to eat after doing my time at the Workplace of Despair. Upon arrival there was some small talk then #1 daughter and I sat and watched as the boss put on a show with her new friend, which then made sense why #1 repeatedly texted me to ask if I was going to be there. We then left the reunion in different vehicles and arrived at the homestead minutes apart. The boss disappeared to the bedroom so I hopped on Facebook to play a couple of games to unwind. I noticed that there was a notice that the boss had become friends with her new friend. I was hoping that this would be something that I did not have to worry about, but I should have questioned it when it happen though I would have been accused of spying on her. Within a couple of weeks the marriage was falling apart and she suggested that maybe we need time apart…

By September 27 I was being thrown out of the homestead and my mother knew before I did for the boss had asked if I could move back home. This was not something that my parents and I could not agree upon for I could never move back and they would never take me back. So I made arrangements to move else. Was not a difficult search for I pass multiple apartment complexes on the journey to the Workplace of Despair. So I made arrangements to live in one of these places though I was told at the signing I needed to set up the electric, which the power company told me would not be until October 6th. On October 4th the landlord informed me this was a mistake and my electric was covered by the rent payment. I informed the boss of the news and she freaked out that she wanted me out NOW! So on October 5th I spent my first night in the new abode. Being I was not prepared for a day sooner than I had planned and it seemed a bit ironic that my first night in the new abode was on the 25th anniversary day. Being I was not exactly prepared for the change of residence, I spent the first two nights sleeping on the floor…

I really did not give much thought to what was to become of me for I was told that this was just a trial to see if we could live apart. Then two weeks later I received a text asking me if I was going to fight the change. Seemed sort of odd to be asked such when this was to be a temporary arrangement. The next week the boss stopped by the new abode and informed me that her and her lawyer had divided everything up and I basically was left with only my retirement fund for I did well in that regard. All the documentation was to be sent to me though it was only later that I was informed the address change for whatever reason was not recognized by the postal service so I had to do then entire process again and now I am awaiting the arrival of all the goodness contained therein…

So over the course of about a month and a half, twenty-five years are erased though it was thirty years in total. There is one bright spot found in all of this craptastic situation, and that is the fact that I have the three greatest kiddoes to ever walk this planet. I am proud of all they have accomplished and all they are currently working toward and all they will do in the future. They are the shiny spot in my existence, and they have made everything I have gone through worth the crap that I have gone through over the last few months. They are surprisingly more well-adjusted than I could have ever imagined, and they are in full understanding of what happened and how it affected me far beyond anything I deserved…

So there is the tale in three-part harmony as best as I can tell it without being overly bitter and minus all the R-rated words that I could have thrown in to emphasize certain portions of the tale. And now I shall sit quietly and await the fate of the vehicle that is not even mine and I shall be far poorer once the bill finally arrives. I have enough food to make it about a week though if I conserve I should be able to make it the two weeks until my next paycheck arrives. So all is good on that front. Rent has been paid until the end of the month and all bills covered for this month except for water though I can just pay a late fee and let it slide until next month if need be…

And so I shall just carry on for better or for worse into 2017, and I wish one and all the Best, Most Fantastic 2017 imaginable…

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jobsearchtips02 · 5 years ago

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2021 Ford Bronco: A Big List Of Alleged Options And Specs Has Been ‘Decoded’

Press image thoroughly futz with in Photoshop by the author

Image: Ford

Truck YeahThe trucks are good!

The 2021 Ford Bronco is scheduled to drop Monday, July 13, 2020, but eager enthusiasts over at the Bronco6G forum have been discussing a huge alleged leak detailing specifications and options all week. It can’t be confirmed with 100 percent certainty, but it’s certainly interesting enough to discuss.

In a forum thread that was started on Tuesday by Bronco6G user 72roadster, you can see a very long list of Bronco features and buyable options that most folks on the forum seem to think is legit. Another user, Toccoa, added some context and helped “decode” the list of options from a few Ford codes into plain English.

Everything here pretty much does track with what makes sense for the Bronco and what we know about Ford options, so I’m inclined to think this list is accurate. Or, at least, was at one point.

So first, I’ll just copy over 72roadster’s top-level summary from the forum:

Engines

2.3L EcoBoost

2.7L EcoBoost

Transmissions

7-speed manual

10-speed automatic

Axle Ratios

3.73 Open Style Rear Axle Final Drive Ratio

4.27 Locking Rear Axle Final Drive Ratio

4.46 Rear Axle Final Drive Ratio

4.7 Electronic-locking Front and Rear Axle

Tire Sizes

P255/70R16 All-Season (A/S) Tires

LT315/70R17 BSW Mud-Terrain (M/T) Tires

P255/75R17 All-Terrain (A/T) Tires

LT265/70R17 All-Terrain (A/T) Tires

LT285/70R17 All-Terrain A/T Tires

LT285/70R17 Mud-Terrain (M/T) Tires

P255/70R18 All-Terrain A/T Tires

Colors

Black Onyx

Shadow Black

Oxford White

Rapid Red

Antimatter Blue

Iconic Silver

Area 51

Carbonized Gray

Cactus Gray

Race Red

Cyber Orange

Velocity Blue

*unknown name (PN3XX)

*unknown name (PN4JR)

*unknown name (PN4JT)

Trims/Packages

Base – Standard Package

Big Bend – Standard Package / Mid Package

Black Diamond – Standard Package / Mid Package

Outer Banks – Mid Package / High Package / Lux Package

Badlands – Standard Package / Mid Package / High Package / Lux Package

Wildtrak – Standard Package / High Package / Lux Package

First Edition – Hood and Bodyside Graphic Package

Special Packages

Towing Capability

Mid Package

High Package

Lux Package

Sasquatch Package

Tops

Top – First Row Soft Top Conversion for Hard Tops

Top – Bimini Soft Top

Top – Bimini Soft Top and Canvas Soft Top

Top – Bimini Soft Top and Mesh Shade Top

Top – Bimini Soft Top, Canvas Soft Top and Mesh Shade Top

Top – Mesh Shade Top

Top – Canvas Soft Top and Mesh Shade Top

Modular Hard Top, Body Color-Painted

Modular Hard Top, Shadow Black-Painted

Dual Tops – Modular Shadow Black-Painted Hard Top – Black Soft Top

Dual Tops – Modular Body Color-Painted Hard Top – Black Soft Top

Dual Tops – Modular Body Black-Painted Hard Top – Black Soft Top

Soft Top, Black Cloth

Hard Top, Carbonized Gray Molded-in-Color (MIC)

On Wednesday even more info came through the Bronco 6G thread, including some accessories, but let’s zoom in on the important specs from the original post and see how they might translate to real-world performance if this alleged option sheet proves to be accurate.

G/O Media may get a commission

Again, while I’m fairly confident there’s truth to the claimed specs here, Ford’s people officially declined to comment when I reached out so we can’t say it represents the Bronco’s final form for sure. And, of course, the company’s not looking to scoop its own big reveal party next week.

Engines Discussed

A 2.3-liter turbo four-cylinder and a 2.7-liter turbo six-cylinder make sense for the Bronco since those engines should both be compact enough to fit in a medium-sized SUV and are both already made by Ford. The 2.3-liter I4 EcoBoost makes 270 horsepower and 310 lb-ft of torque in the current Ranger, while the 2.7-liter V6 has been in the F-150 for a few years now and currently claims 325 HP and 400 lb-ft of torque.

So I think it’s fair to figure the base Bronco will have about 300 lb-ft of torque while the bigger-engined option will step to over 400 lb-ft. Of course, Ford already offers a more powerful tune for the small-engine Ranger, so it should have no issue getting bigger numbers from the 2.3-liter if it wants to. I guess it will depend on what kind of mpgs are being targeted.

Transmissions Discussed

The seven-speed manual, as bonkers as it sounds, has basically been confirmed by photos of a shift lever. Folks are figuring it will effectively be a six-speed with an ultra-low gear for crawling, which is exactly the kind of cool gimmick this truck’s going to need to stand out.

A 10-speed auto makes sense, as these are already ubiquitous in Ford’s truck lineup. I’m not a fan myself. It’s a clunky transmission in town in the Ranger, but should help get some gas mileage back on highway cruising.

Axle Ratios Discussed

So you don’t have to scroll back up: The Bronco6G forum said the 2021 truck will get four different final drive axle ratio options: 3.73, 4.27, 4,46, and 4.7.

Axle ratios don’t seem like a particularly sexy topic… until you understand just how important they are to a vehicle’s performance. It’s a very big deal in the off-road world, especially once you start messing with big tires and need to put down lot of power at low speeds.

My colleague David Tracy did a great writeup explaining crawl ratios and off-road gearing, so please give that a peek to understand the science here.

To lay it out a little more expediently, the axle ratios written like “X.XX” mean “X.XX:1,” which means the vehicle’s driveshaft turns X.XX times for every one turn of the wheels. Even simpler: The bigger the X number, the more powerful the vehicle feels. Of course, you pay for it by burning more fuel.

So if the axle ratios posted above for the Bronco are accurate, the “3.73 Open Style Rear Axle Final Drive Ratio” would be the base, more-efficient option while the “4.7 Electronic-locking Front and Rear Axle” would be the most capable. The 2020 Wrangler Rubicon has a 4.1 final drive ratio, so everything else being equal, it seems that the top-end Ford might be more aggressive than the top Jeep on its power-to-efficiency equation.

There’s more to it, including wheel size and of course HP, that will dictate which setup is objectively “better” though.

Tire Sizes Discussed

Hot dang, tires, my favorite topic! I love tires because they’re the one piece you can change on a vehicle and change every aspect of said vehicle’s performance. When it comes to 4x4s, you want something big for ground clearance, but not obscenely big if you want to hang on to daily drivability and efficiency.

This alleged spec sheet claims that the Bronco will have seven stock tire sizes. That would be a lot for a Honda Civic, but it makes sense for a mass-market 4×4. There are four LT (“light truck”) options, and three P (“passenger”) options. The significance there is basically that LT tires are chunkier, more ply, harder to pop, heavier, use more fuel and handle worse. P tires are lighter, so they’re better for road driving, but may puncture more easily. They can still be knobby and be decent on dirt, though.

As for the difference between all-terrain and mud-terrain tires, the MTs tend to be the most off-roady road-legal option available with really deep knobs for paddling through thick mud. All-terrain tires are a little more balanced. All-seasons, of course, are road tires.

Tire size are usually expressed as “letter, number, slash, number, R, wheel diameter” but discussed in terms of overall diameter, so I used the handy wheel size calculator at tiresize.com to translate the coded sizes into overall diameter for you here:

P255/70R16 All-Season: 30.1-inch overall diameter

LT315/70R17 BSW Mud-Terrain: 34.4-inch overall diameter

P255/75R17 All-Terrain: 32.1-inch overall diameter

LT265/70R17 All-Terrain: 31.6-inch overall diameter

LT285/70R17 All-Terrain: 32.7-inch overall diameter

LT285/70R17 Mud-Terrain: 32.7-inch overall diameter

P255/70R18 All-Terrain: 32.1-inch overall diameter

There will be some variance in those diameters due to inflation level and tread life remaining, but that’s the baseline. For those of you unfamiliar with the off-road scene, 34.4-inch tire is pretty darn big. In fact, LT315/70R17 is the same tire you’ll see on a stock Ford Raptor.

The 30.1-inch option will be most efficient, and the 33-inch options should provide a decent balance.

Colors, Trims, Special Packages Discussed

Who wants to guess what the Sasquatch Package is?

This would be a good crop of colors if it turns out to be real. Hopefully, there will be a green and tan in the mix, too.

Tops Discussed

I’m really into the idea of a “mesh shade top” but mostly I’m just excited about the prospect of variety. From the teaser images we’ve seen so far, it’s clear Ford’s committing to open-air off-roading, which is huge.

I’ll state one final time that the specs and options discussed here are conjecture, and unconfirmed by Ford. But it’s all plausible enough to warrant the discussion I’ve presented here. I’m confident the Bronco’s final form will be pretty close, at any rate.

Now we just need to see some honest images of the thing throwing sand, already!

from Job Search Tips https://jobsearchtips.net/2021-ford-bronco-a-big-list-of-alleged-options-and-specs-has-been-decoded/

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altruistic-meme · 1 year ago

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a bitch is now certified to drive 😎

#i can drive the Drivable Things officially now #not that i was driving them before or that i actually WILL be driving them now #but i CAN #shh ac

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gyrlversion · 6 years ago

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YouTubes Shitty Robot Queen Made Her Own Tesla Pickup Truck

YouTuber Simone Giertz is known as the queen of “shitty robots,” the kind of robots that make a mess of chopping vegetables, serving soup, cutting hair, writing holiday cards, and wiping your nether regions. Her inventions are clever, the robots intentionally excessive and comically inept. Hilarity ensues; Giertz curses, to the chagrin of her advertisers. But she keeps churning out machines as well as videos, exploring a variety of building projects in her San Francisco workshop––even as she battles a brain tumor.

“This is going to be my daily car, which in some ways is fucking stupid,” Giertz says.

Simone Giertz

Lauren Goode is a senior writer at WIRED who covers consumer technology.

The Truckla is “usable now, but fully drivable in July.”

“And then I realized, this is not that car.”

More Great WIRED Stories

The post YouTubes Shitty Robot Queen Made Her Own Tesla Pickup Truck appeared first on Gyrlversion.

from WordPress http://www.gyrlversion.net/youtubes-shitty-robot-queen-made-her-own-tesla-pickup-truck/

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crosbyru-blog · 6 years ago

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Mercedes-Benz A-Class 2018 long-term review

The wide array of specced Alternatives to try makes the latest-generation A-Class a long-term Narrative with room to develop Why we are running it: To see if this VW Golf rival has come of age, and to pick the’perfect’ version Month 4 – Month 3 – Month 2 – Month 1 – Specs Life with a Mercedes-Benz A-Class: Month 4 Getting selective with the choices list – 20th February 2019 Some option packs are better value than others. The A-Class’s #1395 Executive Package certainly functions. It has heated seats (essential in winter), the excellent 10.25in larger central infotainment screen, front and rear parking sensors, electrically folding mirrors (those last two are vital in our HQ’s tight multi-storey), and the ability to park itself, which I’ve yet to try. Back to the top Finally settled on purchasing an A-Class? The tricky bit’s deciding which one – 13th February 2019 Now we are on our second Mercedes-Benz A-Class — this A200 AMG Line after the original A180d Sport — the various ways in which an A-Class can be specced to create cars with such different characters are really beginning to manifest themselves. Each difference between the two A-Classes is big enough on its own, but combined they create a car that feels like something new . The most obvious distinction between this A200 and its A180d predecessor is, of course, the motor — and the fuel station pump at which you fill it. The A200 uses a turbocharged 1.3-litre petrol unit into the A180d’s 1.5-litre diesel. The 161bhp/184lb feet engine, co-developed with Renault-Nissan, feels of much greater displacement than its official 1332cc figure indicates, offering plenty of torque at low revs and surprising muscularity at higher revs. You can’t say that about a lot of downsized turbo petrol units, although it does share its zingy soundtrack when under loads with its small-engined cousins. Impressive everyday economy proved to be a strong suit of this A180d and surprisingly — given that downsized turbo petrols are typically among the worst performers in the real world — it is easy to get up of 40mpg from the A200, and even push 50mpg in the event you drive parsimoniously. That’s within spitting distance of the official asserted figure of 53.3mpg. 1 piece of the driveline the two cars do share is their seven-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission. Its performance at step-off and reduced revs was the worst portion of the A180d. The transmission is better from the A200, but not ideal. More work is needed to better integrate it with the motor, and ensure faster and more responsive getaways to get you through gaps in the traffic and roundabouts. The chassis is another big mechanical shift. As discussed previously, the A180d uses a torsion beam set up for the rear suspension, while the A200 AMG Line increases a multi-link back axle (non-AMG Line A200s get the torsion beam). Jumping to the A200 for the first time, it felt a whole lot more alive in the way it moved down the street and engaged the driver. I was surprised at exactly how much more nimble it felt, but put this down to the lighter gas engine on the front axle helping the handling feel more nimble over the rear suspension offering greater body control. Comparing the ride between the two cars is a more subjective thing, as it’s not as simple as torsion beam versus multi-link. The A200 includes the larger 18in AMG alloy wheels, as opposed to the 17in rims of this A180d, and related lower-profile tyres (225/45 from the A200 plays 205/55 in the A180d). The A200 does feel a bit sexier than the A180d, but the ride is much more sophisticated, less ploddy and with better body control. We are going to keep experimenting with different suspension and wheel set-ups to find out if a sweet spot are available, but it has advantage A200 AMG Line in the chassis stakes so far. The interior is also a step up in sophistication and class from the already impressive A180d Sport. You would expect that in a pricier, range-topping trim, but the AMG Line does deliver. The sport seats grip you nicely and are pleasing to the look and touch, while the optional #1395 Executive Package provides a further increase in perceived quality. Among its additions is a larger 10.25in screen for the central screen, the highlight of which is the crispness and clarity of the graphics. A map hasn’t looked so good. I had grown quite fond of this A180d. As an entry-level’real world’ model (ie the best value you can get for the two spec and running costs), it felt like the kind of car to perform 20,000 fuss-free motorway miles in each year. The A200 shows how differently the A-Class can be flavoured, with no less pleasing results. Love it: Sleek styling This A-Class isn’t pretty from every angle, but it has never looked better than in black with AMG Line trim. Loathe it: Transmission response Step-off is better at the A200 than the A180d, but still not as smooth as it ought to be. Back to the top The A180d we began this evaluation with has been substituted by the A200 you see here. The A200’s 161bhp 1.3-litre turbo petrol, on first impressions, revs well and helps enhance the overall drivability compared with the A180d’s 1.5-litre diesel. AMG Line brings a leap in toys and perceived quality over the A180d’s Sport and the more sophisticated suspension subtly enhances agility. Back to the top Life with a Mercedes-Benz A-Class: Month 3 Pass me another A-Class, we’re done with this one – 9th January 2019 By the time you read this, A-Class number one of three in this collection of back-to-back evaluations will have returned to its manufacturer. This A180d is to be replaced by a petrol-powered A200, meaning the diesel leg of this trilogy is over and the first set of conclusions can be drawn. What is worth noting directly from the off is just how relevant a diesel engine of any kind remains if you do big miles. When you are doing just shy of 2000 miles a month, as we were averaging in our brief stint in the car, diesel makes the best sense of all. Our average market figure has slipped from the 60mpg around that it had hovered in the first days. The weather has cooled and the amount of shorter journeys has increased, but we’re still mightily impressed with a 55mpg average. That will make for interesting comparison number one as we switch from our 1.5-litre four-cylinder diesel to a downsized 1.3-litre turbocharged petrol in the A200. Just what will our wallets make of the change? From previous experience, downsized petrols are some of the least impressive for real world market. We will have the calculator out over the next few months and let you know. 1 thing that I won’t miss about this A-Class is that the transmission. There’s simply no go when you ask for it with your foot, no matter how gentle or hard you are on the pedal. It takes a fantastic second for drive to appear, and it is as unimpressive as it is baffling: how did Mercedes sign off the car like this? It is a shame, because for the most part the transmission makes for an easy-going counterpart to the A180d once you’re on the go. It kicks down with minimal fuss when required and offers impressive drivability from the 30-50mph acceleration bursts that are a part of normal driving. The seven-speed dual clutch auto also appears in the A200, so it will be intriguing to see whether the issue is one related to the transmission itself or one caused by its integration with the diesel engine. Both the A180d and A200 use the torsion beam rear suspension choice — unless you spec your A200 in AMG Line trim, which our automobile will include to include an additional element to this story. On the standard suspension set-up and with 17in alloys in this mid century Sport trim, the A180d rides nicely but not with class-leading status. There’s greater sophistication in how a Volkswagen Golf or Ford Focus rides. The A180d’s body control comes unstuck over higher frequency surfaces and can set the cabin shaking. Intriguingly, there were a couple of large dissenters among the Autocar staff on the way in which the A180d rides on this standard set-up. The final big change we’ll be noticing is with the MBUX infotainment system. Our A180d has the dual 7in screens, one centrally for the infotainment and another for the motorist’s instruments. Others that have experienced the bigger 10.25in options in other A-Classes have smirked at how small it is, yet I have never had a problem with the images, legibility, size or operation. I’m looking forward to seeing if bigger does mean better when we update one of the two screens on the A200. Love it: SEAT COMFORT Not 1 fidget, tweak of the trunk or numbing of a bum cheek on a 400-mile journey. ACTIVE LANE KEEP ASSIST If you don’t need it on, you have to turn it off each and every time you restart the ignition. Mercedes feels ahead in technology terms – 27th December 2018 Having spent much of the past year at a Golf, I thought it’d take more than a month or two to familiarise myself with the A-Class. Wrong. Last week I jumped back to a Golf and was amazed by how outdated the VW felt. The A-Class has greater material richness and its technologies and slickness surpass the VW’s — a car that is likely on the podium because of its course along with the Audi A3. Mileage: 4222 Life with a Mercedes-Benz A-Class: Month 2 One of those cars was the third bestseller in October, another fifth. – 28 November 2018 When did mainstream cars become so expensive? Was it about the same time that the premium players came down to more mainstream sections like the family hatchback class to attempt to steal the established players’ lunch? After a month or so fast piling on the miles in our recently acquired Mercedes-Benz A-Class and getting to know it fairly well for the months of this evaluation that lie ahead, I thought it best not to allow the chance slip by and do similar with the Ford Focus. After all, it is the likes of Focus buyers who have fallen under the spell of that Mercedes badge and saved a few additional pennies. The Focus and our A-Class share quite similar mechanical specifications. Both use small-capacity four-cylinder diesel engines (1.5 for the Focus, 1.3 for the A-Class) closely matched on power, torque and 0-62mph time (118bhp, 192lb ft and 10.2sec in the Ford performs 114bhp, 221lb ft and 10.5sec in the Merc). Both use automatic gearboxes (an eight-speed torque convertor for the Ford, seven-speed dual-clutch automobile for the Merc). And the Price? There is less than #1000 in it, in the sporty ST-Line X trim in the Focus, and the sporty, erm, Sport trim of this A-Class. By the time you fiddle with the various standard kits and choices, you find yourself with quite literally only a few additional pennies to the Mercedes. Translate this to a PCP deal and a monthly payment, and diddly-squat becomes the numerical value. The point? For however brilliant the Focus is to drive, and it’s the quality of Mercedes and its overall package are of enormous appeal, and the best illustration of how the premium players are squeezing the middle-market mainstream brands with cars such as the A-Class. Ask the average car buyer if they’d have a Ford or a Mercedes for the same money, and we can all guess the answer. It is working for Mercedes, too. The A-Class is perhaps the most commonly spotted new car I’ve seen on the streets this fall, following the ubiquitous Ford Fiesta. Hardly surprising, as it was the third bestselling new car in the UK in September. Third bestselling? Crikey. Like me, those owners will be finding more about what an interesting car it is to live with. The Mercedes’ interior and technology are in a different league from anything else that the segment has seen. The MBUX infotainment system may be’only’ the entry-level one with the two 7.0in screens rather than the complete S-Class-style widescreen treatment across the whole dashboard, but it is wanting for nothing in operation. I’m experimenting with the’Hey Mercedes’ voice activation system, which is definitely one of the better ones I’ve encountered. The trick is to talk to it normally, and not like a robot. Will have you on the phone to the road test ace faster than’Hey Mercedes. Call. ‘I’m sorry, could you repeat that?’ I am continuing to be bowled over by the effortless efficiency of this A180d. The market has settled around 60mpg today the weather has got colder, a quite extraordinary figure and in another league again to the 45mpg or so average I got from a similar drivetrain from the Focus. That’s another part of the financial argument in the Merc’s favour. Yet there is a negative point on the transmission, specifically at step-off. It’s just so darn slow to respond. There is a T-junction in my commute on the edge of town. You have to pull upon the visitors to join a lane that has only come around a blind corner. Gaps in the traffic can be only a second or two, so as soon as you add in your reaction time and the time for the transmission to engage and then to pull away, the gap could well have gone. Manual gearboxes are coming soon to the A-Class and I guess its general quality will only increase more when that day comes. Enjoy it: Quality feel Classiness and quality run through the A-Class. Solid door thuds are as pleasing as the crispness of the interior screen graphics. Ride quality ‘Loathe’ is strong, but the ride is proving divisive. It’s too firm for some, lacking sophistication for others. I’d call it okay.   Mileage: 3462 In less than a month since it joined us, the A-Class has racked up a vast number of miles — a indication of how well it fits into daily life. Yet much debate has begun in the office among those who’ve driven itride quality (blended ), fuel market (highly regarded), suitability of the transmission (not popular), interior quality (a high point), and size (Golf-like’just right’). Much to explore further… Mileage: 3222 Back to the top Welcoming the A-Class into the fleet – 31st October 2018 It’s testament to the impact Mercedes-Benz has made with the A-Class in the UK that the arrival of this all-new fourth-generation version was considered one of the most keenly anticipated releases of the year. We say fourth generation, but you could argue it’s only really the second given the A-Class’s radical transformation from its previous generation from futuristic, spacious, ahead-of-its-time MPV-supermini mash-up to, dimensions-wise, a meat and two veg family hatchback pitched right at the heart of the European family hatchback market. The last A-Class was a staple of the UK’s top 10 bestselling cars list monthly, buyers attracted to it in their droves from the attractive #199 per month PCP deals which were regularly being advertised as the most inexpensive way into Mercedes ownership. It worked: the A-Class was a key motive behind Mercedes’ march to the peak of the premium brand sales charts in the UK and the fourth-top-selling brand overall. While we’re here, that’s quite a remarkable statistic. Mercedes sold more cars in the UK last year than Renault, Peugeot and Toyota to name only three, and the A-Class is among the biggest players in the family segment in the manner the Mégane, 308 and Corolla were a decade or two ago. Premium is the new mainstream. There are three unique engines originally available from dealers who are tasked with continuing that success. Yet there are so many subplots within the range that this is going to be a long-lasting test with a twist. For starters, KT18 RZA you see here is a car we are going to be saying goodbye to much earlier than we normally would, for by the time the year is out another shiny new A will be along replace it. Why so? To attempt and get as broad an experience as possible in the new A-Class. Early drives have suggested it is a car which can be specced in various ways to change its character so dramatically; we really need to try more than one car in a single solitary spec to make our recommendations. Up first, then, is an A180d Sport. This car’s 1.5-litre four-cylinder unit with 114bhp and 192lb feet is the only diesel option until the more potent 2.0-litre A200d and A220d arrive very shortly. Drive is delivered to the front wheels through a seven-speed dual-clutch gearbox, the only transmission available. Do not worry: manuals can be found in some petrol variants. The petrols for now are a 161bhp 1.3-litre turbo in the A200 and a 221bhp 2.0-litre turbo in the A250, while a 187bhp 2.0-litre from the A220 with optional four-wheel drive is due to split them. There is also a 134bhp 1.3-litre in the entry-level A180. A headline-grabbing, Volkswagen Golf R-rivalling A35 AMG has also recently been announced, before a launch next year — our current plan being to crown this evaluation with a longer stint in that car with what might be the A-Class’s greatest hits album. But there is much to discover before we draw any conclusions like that. Such as finding out more about one of the important stories in this A-Class: the suspension of its back wheels. The A250 is the only A-Class available today with the multi-link rear suspension, the A180d and A200 getting an eyebrow-raising torsion beam. If you don’t spec your A200 with the 18in alloys in AMG Line trim, which is due to follow our initial torsion-beam-equipped A180d to get that comparison. Trim wise, our car is a Sport, which sits in the middle of the A-Class range. For the #27,340 asked by Mercedes, you receive a degree of kit that hasn’t left us wanting for much in these early days. The wheels are the standard Sport 17in rims, and the only option is metallic paint. That leaves the standard kit list to add dual-zone air-con, some excellent LED headlights and the new MBUX infotainment system controlled through either the conventional 7.0in touchscreen, the trackpad on the centre tunnel or the steering wheel controllers. All those controls seemed a bit bewildering when I sat in the car, perhaps due to these recent personal familiarity with BMW/Mini and Volkswagen Group systems, yet already I am finding it intuitive to use. The vibrancy of these images is a highlight, as is my experience of the Hey Mercedes voice control. Utter these two words and you get Siri-style search function of the vehicle’s controls, as well as some online search also. I have heard from colleagues that the system was quite buggy on its initial global press launch, yet it got up the amount of a taxi firm in Norwich I needed (is that you, Mr Partridge?) The very first time I used it. 1 other first impression: the A180d has an engine of effortless efficiency. Economy is nearer to 70mpg than 60mpg (maintained: 68.9mpg). That is quite remarkable with only 1000 or so miles on the odometer. The car covered another 1000 miles or so in its first few weeks , and that kind of economy over those kinds of motorway distances is the latest case for the defence of diesel. In automobiles like this used in this fashion, the black pump makes absolute sense. And did I mention that interior? Well, it’s not just lovely to look at, it’s also lovely to sit and browse your way around its controls. That’s only the entry-level system: we will be testing the optional 10.25in screens to the full widescreen cinema experience over the course of those updates for one more component to this developing story. We’ve got a busy and exciting few months ahead getting to know this most important of new cars, and so we’d better start. Second Opinion Two things stick out. First, its all-round excellence: the steering and low-speed ride create rivals seem rough, and promise a fantastic next-gen Golf if VW would be to keep up. Second, how much more traditional it is from the first, nutty, shorter-than-Fiesta edition. Seems VW was correct all along. Steve Cropley Back to the top Mercedes-Benz A-Class A180D Sport specification Specs: Price New #27,340 Price as tested #27,935 Alternatives Mountain grey metallic paint #595 Back to the top The post Mercedes-Benz A-Class 2018 long-term review appeared first on Auto Note Buyer - Sell Your Auto Notes For Cash. https://autonotebuyerinc.com/mercedes-benz-a-class-2018-long-term-review/

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grandpxnews-blog · 7 years ago

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F1 drivers to talk tyre woes in Brazil

New Post has been published on https://grandpx.news/f1-drivers-to-talk-tyre-woes-in-brazil/

F1 drivers to talk tyre woes in Brazil

Formula 1 drivers association, the GPDA, is scheduled to meet at Brazil to discuss the state of racing and focus specifically on the frustrations of tyre management in the recent past.

The rising gulf between the top three teams and the rest of the grid and need for excessive tyre management have become a big sticking point and the drivers want to see if they need to step in to push things a bit in the right direction.

According to Red Bull’s Daniel Ricciardo, the new tyres make it possible to push harder in certain situations. But they need too much attention and still lacks something in drivability.

So they have added the topic to the Friday’s GDPA get together is expected to happen after the official drivers’ briefing.

Speaking of the tyre problem, Ricciardo said: “I don’t think anyone ever seems to be satisfied,”

“They wanted a tyre we can race harder on for longer, and I feel now we’re nearly getting that.

“But I don’t know how to have a tyre that we can push hard on but is going to degrade, so we can still do a two or three-stop. I feel we’re just going to drive slower like we’re doing now.”

But tyres are not the only issue slated for discussion. Romain Grosjean said a few other important topics related to F1 are also on the agenda.

“It’s not only tyres,” said Grosjean, who is also the director of the GPDA. “I feel, and I don’t want to speak for everyone else, but I feel like we need to give our feedback and maybe try to do a bit more because the races aren’t fun.

“P6 in Mexico is two laps down? How do you hope to see a midfield car on the podium if they are one or two laps down?

“The delta between the big teams and the small teams is too big. Plus the tyres being so complicated to understand, to drive, if you don’t have the downforce you destroy them and you open the gap again.”

The discussion is expected to help understand what the drivers are feeling about these issues.

In case they find a common ground, they could take the issue to the F1’s rule makers, the media and the fans.

“If we get to somewhere where everyone is happy with what we have discussed, and we have got bullet points, then we should move them forward to you guys, to Liberty or whoever. [It’s important] we don’t sit back and don’t do anything for the sport we love.”

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itsworn · 7 years ago

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Undercover Boss—A Look Inside Ford’s Prototype V10 Mustang

Walk into a Dodge, Chevrolet or Ford dealership, plunk down the cash, and you can drive away with 500, 600, 700, or even 800 horsepower. Whether you fancy corner carving or straight-line acceleration, today’s hot rods give you amazing performance, and they do so without sacrificing drivability. In most cases, you get reasonable economy and can check the option box for every creature feature imaginable- right down to heated and air conditioned seats.

But long before any new performance model makes it to the showroom, engineers develop an idea, build prototypes, test theories, and sometimes even hit the track to see if the bird will fly. Even when the engineering proves to be sound, however, no project is ever guaranteed a green light.

One such project that’s worth mentioning was the insane V10 Mustang created by Ford in 2004. This was not a big-budget deal either, but a skunk works project built mostly after hours by passionate engineers.

At first glance, this silver ‘Stang appears to be nothing special—until you raise the Cobra R hood and lay your eyes on the fantastic 351-cube V10 power plant. Okay, you say, what’s the big deal? Ford stuffed a 6.8L V10 truck engine in a Mustang. Well, this is no basic truck engine, not by a long shot.

Motivating this Mustang is an all-aluminum, short-stroke, high-winding, quad-cam modular V10 engine created by engineers with the desire to build something really special. The project started as a “what if” idea in the early 2000’s by Ford’s Powertrain Research and Advanced Engine Development group, headed by Kevin Byrd, who you may recognize as part of the dynamic duo on the TV show Two Guys Garage.

“We did the V10 to inspire the company to get into the supercar segment, to compete with the Viper and Corvette,” said Byrd, Research and Advanced Engines, Technical expert for engine architecture and design concepts and Supervisor for CAD and CAE. “Another part of the company was doing the Ford GT, but it was not publicized, even within the company at the time. We hoped the two [V10 and Ford GT] could merge. So as it turns out, we built that Mustang not to really push doing a V10 Mustang, but more to inspire something more powerful,” Byrd added. “We really didn’t have budget to do a project like this,” he added. “It was a grass-roots deal, and it came from the bottom up, not the top down.” If you recall, Ford didn’t have a supercar like the Dodge Viper, and in order to build one, Byrd and the team recognized that Ford would first need a supercar engine, so they set out to create something one.

Before a single part could be built, they had to figure out how to make things happen without having a ton of resources. “The budget didn’t exist to do Ford’s normal and official development or manufacturing,” Byrd told us. “And Ford’s performance arm at the time, Ford Racing and the engineering group at SVT/SVE, had nothing to do with the project. Ultimately, it came down to following a series of steps by creative and passionate engineers.”

Byrd tapped key players to help him develop the foundation, including the block, heads and crankshaft. The decided on a 5.8L (351-cube), V10 using an all-aluminum block with a 3.55-inch x 3.54-inch bore and stroke, which is essentially a 4.6L with two cylinders added. But Ford already had a V10, so why not use that engine? As Byrd described, the truck V10 was a tall-deck truck engine with a split-pin crank, like you’d find in a 60-degree V-6. It also shared the 5.4L deck height, so it would be very difficult to fit in a Mustang or a supercar.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Despite the odds being stacked against them, the team forged ahead and began to create a block. They essentially sawed off the front of a 4.6L block and mated it to another 4.6L with the front two cylinders remaining. This gave them the necessary short deck height, along with the front timing cover with bosses and bolt holes for a 4.6L modular engine.

Using the same cut-and-paste theory, they cast heads using cores from the DOHC Cobra R, which were the best Ford had to offer at the time. The heads were fitted with cams featuring the same specs as the 2000 Cobra R, which produced more than 400 horsepower in V8 form.

Another unique piece in the V10 puzzle was the crankshaft. Rather than use a split-pin design, the team chose an odd-fire crankshaft with a common-pin design. Byrd explained, “because the crank has a 72-degree pin offset, when you put that in a 90-degree block, it doesn’t line up to a 72-degree firing position. It ends up being 90/54, so you get that odd-fire sound,” he added. The crank is forged from 4130 billet steel, so it’s plenty strong and it swings Manley H-beam rods and 10:1 compression pistons from the SVT Cobra R.

Still, there were necessary parts that couldn’t be pulled from a bin. They fabbed up an oil pan and got to work designing a suitable intake manifold. Feeding the 10-cylinder is a one-off intake pieced together from a sliced and diced 2000 Cobra R manifold. It utilizes a cross-ram design with straight runners and a small crossover between the plenums. Each plenum is fed by a pair of 70mm throttle bodies that are opened by a unique pulley and cable system. “Greg Coleman helped with the progression. We worked on the engine after normal work hours,” said Byrd.

Another problem was the lack of a suitable engine controller. Nothing in the Ford bin was capable of running the odd-fire V10. So, they couldn’t just wire it all up to a single EEC-V computer from the 6.8 V10 (an engine that uses a split-pin, even-fire crank with balance shaft). But, the EEC-V was capable of running an inline five-cylinder engine, so they decided to use two EEC-V processors, one for each side of the engine.

“The fact that we have two processors is why there’s twin throttle bodies and a pair of 80mm mass air meters,” said Byrd. “Ken Jahr did the engine calibration, and he got it running really well. The current V10 controller could do a I-5, or a split-10, even-fire V10, but since we did a common 10, 58/72 degree firing order, uneven-fire, the current controller couldn’t do it, so we ran two and set them up as I-5 and doubled up on the mass air, crank, cam, throttle position and water temp sensors.” If you look at the interior photo, you’ll see two computers strapped together in the passenger-side foot well.

After a few months of work, they had a complete ready-to-run prototype. Amazingly, the engine came in 60 pounds lighter than the iron-block 5.4L Cobra R engine, and it even measured 351 cubic inches. But the coolest engine in the world would be useless if no one saw it run.

With the help of Jim O’Neil’s group, they were able to pull a car together. “We had a silver 1999 Mustang out back. It was the mule for the 2000 Cobra R engine, and it still 5.4 Four-Valve in there. We dusted it off, pulled out the V8 and dropped in our V10. O’Neil and Richard “Tiny” Mitchell helped get the engine fitted properly. The Mustang already had a six-speed and Ford 9-inch rear. Engine-to-firewall spacing remains is identical the 4.6, and the V10 only adds 4 inches of length to the front, so even the front dress fits without too much trouble.”

The Drive, Then and Now

The first time I laid eyes on the V10 was 15 years ago in fall of 2003, when I worked for HOT ROD sister magazine, Muscle Mustangs and Fast Fords. I met with Byrd, Ford’s Nick Twork, and a few other Ford guys at Milan Dragway outside of Detroit. To be honest, I had no idea what I would be testing, but my boss, editor extraordinaire, Jim Campisano, set me on the mission to “go drag test a Mustang.”

I arrived, helmet in hand, and was shocked to see a V10 resting under the Cobra R hood. Byrd was excited to have a journalist drive the team’s creation and I immediately understood how important it was to produce good numbers, as it could make or break the project.

The car was clearly a mule. It was loaded with data-gathering equipment, and a pair of air/fuel readouts that were mounted to the passenger side of the dash. Byrd told me to climb in and get comfortable. So I adjusted the seat to get a good reach on the clutch and I rowed the shifter through the gates to get a feel for the gears.

With all the confidence in the world, he told me to get out there and hammer it, so I did. Running on BFG street tires, I did a mild burnout, staged shallow and launched at 2,500 rpm. I had decent grip off the line, but none when I shifted Second. The first run ended in 13.06 seconds at 116 mph. After a few passes, I chopped the elapsed time to 12.83 at 116.25 mph, but there was much more left in the Stang. With a little feel for the V10, we bolted on a set of Mickey Thompson ET Street tires and went back to the line.

My first good pass with the sticky rubber came with a 5,500 rpm launch, 6,900 rpm shifts and the result was 11.76 at 117.81 mph. Next, I turned the launch up to 6,000 and the Mustang responded, clicking off a 11.56 at 116.84 mph. It was clear the V10 loved rpm. Everyone was thrilled with the 11.56, but I knew there was more. We let the engine and clutch cool for 30 minutes, then I rolled to the line, did a Second-gear burnout and staged as shallow as I could. I put the V10 on the limiter at 7,000 rpm and dumped the clutch when the tree flashed. The ‘Stang ripped from the line ,and I grabbed gears at redline without lifting off the gas. Fourth gear came in a hurry and I crossed the stripe in 11.51 seconds with a speed of 118.18 mph.

The team was thrilled. The V10 put on a show and produced times much quicker than anything on the market at the time. In fact, we ran a supercharged 2003 Cobra the same day with a best of 12.83 at 110 mph. A typical 2004 Mustang GT could run 13.70s. Just for fun, and with the track in better shape, we went back to the BFG street rubber, and knocked off a 12.44 and a 12.28 at 117 mph. What a monster! (Note: the story ran in the February 2004 issue of Muscle Mustangs and Fast Fords magazine.)

Ford brass was so impressed that the team was asked to produce a 7.0L (427-cube) version of the V10 for a few special projects. “We did a version at 427 cubic inches and really stretched the limits of bore and stroke,” said Byrd. “This would have been more of a race engine, not really for production purposes. Chris Theodore, who was the VP of Advanced Product Creation, loved the engine and he wanted us to build something really cool. He wanted to capture the enthusiasm and hope. When we did the Carroll Shelby Cobra concept, it was more real. All the engineering and momentum was real. Even in 6.4L form, it was a fully doable, production-intent engine. Bore, stroke- it was legit,” he said. “Ford’s published HP numbers were 605, which was amazing for the mid 2000s. Unfortunately, the economic downturn of the time caused the plug to be pulled on this project. Other prototypes that used the short-deck V10 were the GR-1 concept and the Ford 427 concept.

“But everything was there to do it, including the low-volume line at Wixom [Michigan]. The transaxle, engineering, development- it was all there. It was a great vision, and we could have done two or three supercars off the same engineering. It had a lot of manufacturing sense. We also could have done an iron block version with off-the-shelf parts. There could have been a 2- and 3- valve variants. Imagine what cool things could have happened?” Byrd added.

Fast-forward to 2018, and I got a call from a friend at Ford who told me the V10 Mustang was still alive. A small group of employees saved it from going to the crusher and had brought it back to its former glory. Fortunately for me, I was scheduled to be in Detroit so I asked if I could take it for a drive. I was handed the keys and the fun began. I didn’t have time to schedule a drag test, but I did get to hit the streets and rip a few gears.

The V10 was as strong as I remember. It has a sound all its own and pulls from the crack of the throttle to 7,000 like a scalded cat. The six-speed powershifts like a dream and catching gears sends the tires into a frenzy. What’s more fun than that? Sadly, my wheel time was limited, but it was enough to put a smile on my face. Now, some 15 years old, the GT feels antiquated, but the engine, oh that engine! It’s a work of art that makes you appreciate those who dreamed and executed. Even though Ford never green-lighted the mill for production, we’re glad it was created and that it still exists today

The post Undercover Boss—A Look Inside Ford’s Prototype V10 Mustang appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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theliterateape · 7 years ago

Text

Judged a Total Loss by a Complete Sham

By Don Hall

This summer, as you likely know, my office has been Millennium Park. Thus, I have had little need to drive much. Taking the Blue Line every day and night, my time in my Prius has mostly been limited to moving it from legal parking spot to legal sparking spot and letting sit as long as I can without getting a street cleaning ticket or some sort of shit.

So, when I was just waking up, sitting in front of my computer with a mug of coffee, at around six o'clock on a Sunday morning and I heard, from the street, “Mr. Hall?” The last thing I expected to hear was, “Don Hall? Your car has been involved in an accident.”

It was the cops and they waited for me to come downstairs (in clothing) to take me to my legally parked car. The street side of it was a bit mashed in. Scraped up and mashed in. It turned out that the night before a drunken kid driving his mother’s SUV hit thirteen cars in his inebriated reverie. The Prius was Hit #1 making my tiny hybrid the speed bump that slowed him down thus sustaining the most damage. I live in Wicker Park. I live above one of fifty bars on the strip. It’s extraordinary this has never happened before.

I took the information on him (they caught him that night) and checked online. I had his name, his address, his mother’s name (he lived with his mother), and the insurance company (American Access) and policy number. I went to the other site and reported the accident. I tried to get ahold of their insurance company to no avail. I want to be furious at this stupid 22-year-old chimphole but I remember that pretty much all 22 year olds are kind of stupid by design. I was incredibly stupid when I was 22 and certainly had my fair share of driving while plastered (although I never wrecked a parked car or a moving car for that matter.) I want to be pissed at him but I already know that being pissed accomplishes nothing so why waste the energy?

Later that morning, Dana and I went down to see if the car could be driven. It was fine. All body damage, no glass broken. Looking at it, I thought it would be around $4K to fix it. We hopped in and I took Dana to Oak Park for a gig to see how well it still drove. To assess the damage to its drivability. Because it seemed perfectly fine the worst thing I can say is that, now, I’m driving a real beater car and, while a pain in the ass, it isn’t the end of the world. It was his fault and his insurance was going to pay for it, right?

Wrong.

We all understand why it’s rigged, right? The government steps in and requires a license for people to legally drive a vehicle. The government manages that licensing process and, despite the fact that one generally has to stand for hours in a sweaty line in order to get up to the front only to find out you have an unpaid parking ticket from 1985 that you have to pay to get your license and you can only pay in the building across town so you take another day off work to stand in another long fucking line to pay it then go back to get your license, you still get the privilege to legally drive.

Oh, but then there’s the city stickers for Chicago:

During negotiations for Chicago’s 2012 budget, newly elected Mayor Rahm Emanuel and then-City Clerk Susana Mendoza agreed to hike the price of what was already one of the priciest tickets vehicle owners can get in the city. Citations for not having a required vehicle sticker rose from $120 to $200.

The increase, approved unanimously by the City Council, was pitched by Mendoza as an alternative to raising the price of stickers as well as generating much-needed revenue from "scofflaws."

Debt from this one type of ticket swelled, compounded by late penalties and collection fees. Collectively, drivers now owe the city some $275 million for sticker tickets issued since 2012.

SOURCE

The government also requires insurance as well, but hand that process over to private business with little regulation and those businesses are there to make money. So they make money telling you they’ll pay you back if something bad happens to your car. When something bad happens to your car, these companies often (and I mean often) find arcane ways to cheat you from the bargain of insurance.

For the record, American Access Insurance is no better than scanning an old insurance card and photoshopping new dates on it. After calling their office eight times in three days and listening to bad easy jazz for longer than my brain could handle, I turned to my insurance: Progressive.

I’ve had no problems with Progressive. I’m a Diamond Member (whatever the fuck that means) and technically speaking haven’t needed them until now, so it was time to see how good their promises on the idiot box held up. I have the iPhone app and I use it. I send the police report, the info on the kid and his mom, and request some promised pay for help.

First up at bat was Craig. Craig was helpful. Told me no problem, took my info, took the info on the other guy, told me to take the car to an auto shop and let him know where it was at. I did all that: taking my crunchy ride to Armitage Auto Repair and getting the old school Chicago man’s man, Harry, to contact Craig.

Craig had passed the buck to Angela and she arranged for Anthony to come out and assess the damage.

Two days later, Adam sends me an email with the estimate attached with the sentence “We’ll take care of this and you should have your vehicle in a week or so. Notice the $250.00 deductible in the estimate.”

I look over the estimate. All body work. Nothing wrong with the car itself. $3,600 minus the deductible. I call Harry. He’s on it.

Same day, in the afternoon, Adam calls me. He now tells me that Anthony has reassessed the automobile and has deemed it a “Total Loss.” Meaning that it would cost more to fix it than it’s worth. While he’s on the phone, I drill up the CarMax website and the Bluebook for Used Cars. I look up my exact model, year and mileage.

“Adam. That doesn’t compute, man. I’m looking at six different cars, almost identical too mine and the average is $9,000. $3,600 isn’t even half of that.”

Adam proceeds to tell that Anthony went around the neighborhood and assessed ten vehicles similar to mine and determined that the basic body work made mine a “Total Motherfucking Bullshit Asslicking LOSS.” Progressive is going to take possession of my car, strip it and sell it for parts and give me $3,500.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t buy a goddamned Vespa for $3,500 let alone a Prius in fucking any shape! Let’s give the money to fucking Anthony and let that jackass go find me a comparable replacement for $3,500!”

Yeah. I kind of lost my shit. I threatened to sue them. Empty threat. I went off on what a horseshit scam this all was. Pointless. Yes, I’ve spent a long while tamping down the Hulk Rage in my life but every once in a while, I’m reminded that it’s always still there just waiting for an excuse to erupt. I’m not proud of this just as I’m not proud of the occasional cookie or cheese binge I go on, or nights when I just let loose and drink too much booze.

I calm down. I get my ushers briefed but they can tell something is off. We disperse and my phone rings again. It’s Adam.

“Adam, first let me apologize. I work in a job right now where angry people yell in my face about things beyond my control all the time. I should know better. Sorry about that. And I am aware this call is being recorded.”

He laughs. He then tells me that he spoke to his supervisor and there is a second option. I can take possession of my own car, they’ll send me the balance of the claim, and my car will be listed as a salvage title should I ever want to sell it. I need the car — not to get to work or around a lot in the city — I need this car to get to and from Kansas, to and from Pennsylvania, to and from the various Team Retreats Dana and I like to go on.

On top of that, at this point in the space-time continuum, the idea of getting on a commercial airline seems kind of horrifying. Decreasing leg room to the point that if you were to crash, you couldn’t get out of your cracked-ass seat anyway. I just read about commercial flights having bed bugs. Shitpickles who feel entitled to put their bare feet on your tray table. Are you kidding me?

As I wrote once a long time ago, wheels equal freedom. Having once lived in my car, this rings truer for me than most.

I go for the second option.

He offers me $2,000. I ask Adam to send me the assessment from Anthony.

“I’m not supposed to...”

“Send it to me now.” I say in the don’t-set-me-off-again-Adam voice.

He sends it.

It turns out that Anthony has canvassed the neighborhood, found ten cars that fit the profile (Hybrid, 2008-2009, 100,000 miles or more.) The average resale price is $8K but then he has adjusted each down to an average of $4K. No notes to establish how he came to this adjusted average. He officially estimates the value of the Prius to be $4,350.

It occurs to me that if my driving record depreciates, the insurance company raises my monthly payment but that as my car depreciates and their obvious commitment to paying the freight should something go wrong wains, they should charge me less as the value of the vehicle goes down with age and wear and tear. But, oh, I dream of a world of fairness and justice for all, for work that pays a living wage, and free peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with hot chocolate every night as well.

I call Harry. He is sympathetic. He tells me to haggle for more than $2K and that he’ll cut me a deal on repairs.

I haggle with Adam. The fact that I know the assessed value from Anthony’s notes helps. They send me closer to $3K. Harry fixes my car for $2,400. It looks brand new.

Harry is one of those Chicago guys. Hard bit, rough around the edges, blue collar honest. If you need your ride fixed, call Harry. He’s solid. He's at Damen Auto Repair & Body Shop.

I’m still with Progressive but I’m down to the most basic, General Liability policy they have because, apparently, Full Coverage doesn’t mean a fucking thing.

#auto insurance scam #Shell Games R US #Full Coverage is Horseshit #don't drive your fucking mom's car when drinking #Armitage Auto Repair

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