#ultimate muscle roller legend

[bluesky-out-of-context]

I'm sorry, the realization that some of The Youfths may not know about Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend compels me to add context to this skeet, even though it violates the gimmick.

[everythingismadeofchaos]

Come on, dude, you're going to post this and not link us to the sexual motorcycle post? Rude

Unless it's ultimate muscle roller legend. Everybody knows about that one

being an online weirdo is fucking awesome because you get to befriend other online weirdos. just now saw a sexual motorcycle post and i was like "hey i'll send this to my buddy, The Motorcycle Fucker" and sure enough it was a smash hit

[patchoulism]

I think I know when exactly the first brick of becoming Elu was laid. When I saw Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend for the first time.

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Part II has landed, my friends. I hope you enjoy it. :)

NSFW under the cut.

As always I’ll never get tired to say the words of appreciation to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​ <3 

Thanks for sticking with this story, guys.  ♥

All the chapters can be found on AO3 as well.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

                              CHAPTER V: Lovestruck. Part II

Jamie ran feeling his leg muscles burn with the effort. Endlessly long, his feet stumbling over the dry branches cracking under his feet startling forest’s inhabitants that seem not to care of his attempt to escape. They know there is no way out. He feels the slap of wet leaves on his face and scratches all over his skin. An aching hollow space inside his chest is growing bigger and bigger. Ultimately, Jamie knows his heart will be ripped out at the end. The sweat dripped down his face forming salty paths. Jamie wants to scream that it stops. He wants to fall down and beg for mercy. But something behind pushes him back further and further into the darkness. His own mother’s voice whispering “Ye didna try hard enough.” 

In the end, the darkness has won. Once again he succumbs to its cold clutches.

* * *

The crisp, fresh Highland air always brings him back on track. Jamie thinks it is one of the main reasons why he feels much better when he’s in the wilderness, especially since his Mam has passed away. He enjoys the freezing early morning air, giving his skin goosebumps and his mind to think straight once again.

He shivers at the swoosh of cold wind. His toes slowly developing a bluish tinge standing on a chilly stone patio. The skies are pink aquarelle with white fluffy marshmallow clouds passing by. Jamie can hear the birds taking charge of the morning chirping away in the garden in front of him. He thinks Claire would love the view. Claire.

Jamie tiptoes back inside closing the doors behind him back facing the wall. Even if he wanted to wake her to catch the beauty of early rising he could not do it. Jamie has learned by now that Claire was a relatively light sleeper. Not by her nature but rather her professional duties. She always slept with her iPhone kept near at hand always, heard each and every message and call. Sometimes Jamie wanted to throw that technical invention through the window and see it break into small pieces. It was his only chance to see her peaceful. Her face always seemed to be concentrating, as if she was not truly asleep. But now that little crease between her eyebrows seemed to be gone.

Claire usually slept like a child with her knees brought up close to her body and wrapped up into a blanket cocoon-like, now was sprawled on her back. The mass of curls exploded into the waves all over the pillow. Like a crown, he thought. One of her breasts peeked from under the quilt, her veins cast a bluish trail over her pale skin all the way down the soft hip pressed to the mattress in its relaxed shape. Jamie was sure he knew each and one of those blue paths under her skin and could trace the map of them on her body with his eyes closed. The morning sun travelled through the thin curtains running its warm rays over Claire’s skin. There was something that came to his mind so sudden that the realisation almost knocked him down. 

Sorcha. 

She was his remedy from that darkness he was running from. That light he longed for so badly but could never find.

When Jamie slid under the blankets next to her she stirred just a bit but did not wake.

He could try to speak to her in English, Gaelic, French; he would even learn any other language just trying to explain what he felt. But it still would not be enough. He was falling in love. Falling in love gave him the same tickling sensation inside his belly and made him breathless as when he rode the roller coaster for the first time at the age of ten.

* * *

Half awake and drowsy I thought that my cat decided to crawl under the quilt in an attempt to beg for his morning feeding. My eyes snapped open when reality kicked in. I viewed a glorious pink sky surrounding the high mountains I saw yesterday through the window of the cottage. The sun crept along the wall, drawing knitted lines of light there. I watched the sunny glimpse run away (creation of the curtains dancing in the wind). It climbed up on the bed all the way up burying itself inside Jamie’s red hair that shone like Amber. His head found its residence in the valley between the milky white of my legs. Jamie’s lips softly touched a spot on the inner side of my thigh where three birthmarks gathered together. 

“Ye ken ye have a witch mark here?” His thumb circled dark dots upon my skin.

Something that vaguely sounded like “mmmm” escaped my mouth. All of a sudden I forgot how to breathe. 

“Now I ken about them too.” 

The rest of the blanket was pushed aside falling to the floor with a soft whisper. It was the competing temperatures, the cool air of the room playing against my hot skin, that raised goosebumps all over me.

I tried to tell him that I am not a witch though (as if they really existed and he was going to execute me). But the words remained stuck inside my throat only letting out a moan when the velvet of Jamie’s tongue descended lower. In mere seconds, my legs began to tremble, hips instinctively rising up with want. But Jamie’s hand laid atop my stomach keeping me pinned on the mattress. A shuddering sigh left my seized lungs as Jamie flicked his tongue once, twice and then his lips closed over the sensitive flesh sucking.

The ceiling started to spin above and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the only existing thing in the world that moment - Jamie. His exploration up and down, from left to right, circling and suckling did not last long before the daylight has disappeared from the view and my cry echoed in the room.

As the real world returned and I regained my senses, I felt my breathing slowly return from short gasping breaths. Jamie's blue eyes settled on me excitedly remarking, "We have a great day ahead of us."

Jamie indeed had plans. It was hiking in fact (“it’s a must in Highlands, ye canna not do it”). Mentally I kicked myself for stopping jogging in the mornings. How big is the chance that I’m not going to be out of breath ten minutes into our nature exploration? The yoga classes where I went with Geillis was also abandoned after several weeks. “I stand enough on my feet in the surgery” I reasoned with myself (and Geillis who made a remark about having “trained arse”).

With perfectly ripe avocados on toast and cherry tomatoes for breakfast (with occasional kisses in between, Jamie tasting sweetly of orange juice and I of strong coffee) we made it outdoors.

The Highlands was dressed in autumn. The leaves were toned in shades of orange, red, and gold causing the scenery to look as if someone had spilled paint down them. Other sepia coloured leaves fell down, whispering their goodbyes to the last warm days. They rustled softly as they dropped from dry branches bidding their farewells. I remembered as a child I liked collecting star-shaped maple leaves, creating a bouquet of reddish-brown remnants of summer. I used to put them between the pages of my Dad’s books in his office. Usually, he would find them days later and smile at me. Together we would take them out and stick into the notebook I had. We did that each autumn until my blue notebook was left behind. As well as the life of my parents when uncle Lamb turned the keys to close the door of our London house. That way he locked away my childhood forever.

Jamie was a walking book of legends and stories. Since we left the cottage he was telling me all kinds of things I’ve never even heard about. He made a remark that I should be ashamed I live in Scotland and only heard about the Loch Ness Monster. 

“Have ye ever heard about Kelpies?”

“No, I haven’t,” I shook my head clinging to Jamie’s forearm for support when we passed a muddy puddle.

“Kelpies were said to take the form of a horse. They could also take a human form. They would use their beauty to lure people to climbing upon them before being taking them into the water, not to be seen again.”

“Charming.” I grimaced.

“Dinna fash, I willna let them take ye.” Jamie laughed grabbing me by the waist before I was trapped under his lips.

The cool mid-autumn air slightly burned inside of my throat when I inhaled too deeply. Not being used to such fresh, crisp sensation I coughed feeling my eyes water. Jamie who walked next to me, kicking the leaves with his shoes, squeezed my hand softly.

“Yer okay, mo nighean donn?”

I liked the sound of the Gaelic he spoke sometimes. His ability to fluidly incorporate it into his speech when he spoke to me made me long to hear it even more. Made me long for him. There was something about the way he sounded. The soft lilt of his voice, the deepness of his accent with a trace of huskiness that poisoned my blood with curiosity and mystery. I was dying to know what he was saying but also wished it to remain a secret. But I could not resist.

“Jamie, what you just said, what does it mean?”

Jamie stopped turning me to face him. His warm breath travelled upon my skin as his forehead leaned to meet mine. He smiled lips curling into a soft shape.

“It means my brown-haired lass.”

“Rather a dull colour I always thought,” I whispered, the pink blooming in my cheeks.

His lips brushed mine. Hands tangling around his neck, I kissed back, fingers running along with the soft curls on his nape.

“No,” Jamie’s finger gently touched a stray curl on my cheek. “No, not dull at all. It’s like the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks. Dark in the wavy spots with wee bits of auburn when the sun touches it.”

I knew this wasn’t just a crush on him. I was well and truly smitten. There was such a serenity when he was around that I could not imagine how should I carry on if he suddenly disappeared. My heart was swelling with my feelings growing with something that one day I could name as love. And I was unquestionably petrified but with him, there was nothing I could be afraid of.

Every time he looked at me like that, the world seemed to stop.When he kissed me, I felt breathless as if all the air from my lungs. His presence, his being was stretching throughout my whole body wrapping around my heart and cradling my soul between his hands. How could I not be falling in love with this man?

 Jamie softly kissed her temple when she closed her eyes. His heart leapt as he held her like that. They stood there in the middle of nowhere, with the mountain rising above them, golden leaves falling down. They were spiralling all the way to the ground as the signs of a bright future life holds for them. The way Claire’s body melted into his, her chin rested at the crook of his neck, Jamie’s hands holding her waist tightly. It was more intimate than anything else they’d done already.

“Claire, about what ye said yesterday,” He spoke quietly into her hair. “Do ye really feel that way?”

Her words echoed in his fevered mind. ‘I fancy you. Very much.’

She nodded.

A romantic inside Jamie wanted to tell her that he loved her from the first moment Claire’s solid head bumped into him but he nodded back tightening his grip on her.

The mountains rose high into the blue. We passed fields with yellowish grass, still wet with morning dew making our shoes damp; It was a glorious expanse of dried grass softly rustling in the wind bending over where we walked creating a pathway.

When my fingers became cold and numb from the freezing Highlands wind Jamie untangled our hands to share the pocket of his jacket with me. We ate a tuna sandwich and vinegar crisps on the wooden bench that stood in the valley near an abandoned cabin. Jamie spilled half of our coffee from the tumbler he prepared. I stifled a need to laugh at him, my thumb gently sweeping away sandwich crumbs from his lower lip. My lips chapped from the wind but Jamie’s touch soothed the burning sensation.

“Ye ken that Loch Lomond,” Jamie pointed to the left where in the distance a great lake stretched out. “Is the largest water lake in British Isles?”

“It surely looks like it,” I smiled looking at the dark water on the horizon. “How do you know so much?”

Jamie chuckled speeding up in front of me to let me pass in safety then, with the help of his steady hand.

“I grew up in the countryside, Sassenach. That’s where I belong. That’s what I love. A Scot must know his history.”

“You know, you would be one of those Highlander warriors in the past for sure.” Laughing, I pinched his biceps.

When we reached the blanket of trees at the base of the mountain, the sun started to go down in the horizon. The sky almost vanished in the forest leaving us with small glimpses of the blue coming through the thickness of pines above us. We took at least a hundred awful selfies during our four-hour hike. I spied a flower that bloomed in all possible shades of purple. Crouching down, I took a picture of it so I could look it up later.

I heard the leaves rustling under Jamie’s feet when he appeared next to me holding out his phone.

“I, er… I... I need to take a pish,” Jamie announced shyly. “Dinna want to drop it down the rocks”

“Smart.” I chuckled hiding his iPhone into the depths of my jeans pocket. 

The mist started to gather around covering the ground with a smoky quilt. I inhaled fresh air perfumed with the rich fragrances of the trees and plants. It was filled with a promise of coming rain clouds ready to burst any moment. I mentally estimated how long we have to get to the cottage before we got soaking wet.

The buzz of Jamie’s phone took me out of my thoughts. Not sure what to do, I fished it out my pocket. 

“Jamie, you got a text!” I shouted into the tall trees startling a lonely bird from the bush.

“Who’s it from?” His voice echoed back somewhere from the left. 

Hesitating for a few seconds I looked down at the screen to see the message. Involuntarily my eyes ran along two lines of letters.

“How are u, mo ghraidh? Dougal popped by, said he canna reach ye, it was urgent. I guessed ye didna have a connection there. Xx.”

The box From said Jen with two emojis -a heart and a house. It was Jenny.

“It’s your sister.” I handed him the phone when he came out brushing off the pine needles from his pants.

When we were going down I wondered what those words meant that Jenny had called him. It was something he’d said to me once before. While Jamie was telling me something about the castle that we could see from our path I googled the meaning of Gaelic that I could not understand. 

It said, “My love” and my heart sank down my chest and then almost broke free out of it ready to burst with happiness.

My love.

* * *

The countryside stretched itself around us in brown, golden and burgundy stains of colours. The hills rolled in soft waves of yellow grass meeting the ground in the valleys with hidden flora.

We walked back in companionable silence holding our hands, fingers securely tangled together, not breaking that needed contact between us.

When there was less than a kilometre until we get to the house the grey skies grumbled with anger. The heavy clouds no longer wanted to wait and cold drops started to fall down as gunfire. In no time it turned into a heavy storm soaking the ground beneath us until it was soft and slippery under our feet. The downpour of water felt icy cold and we had to run lest we get completely wet. The wind howled muting our laughs but for once in the longest time, I felt reckless and happy.

Jamie went to the bedroom peeling off his clothes that stuck to the skin. I followed in suit, not wishing to catch a cold and left a damp pile of clothes on the floor. While I had the time I filled the bathtub with steaming water. Turning off the main light the room went into the warm glow of the candles I’d managed to find in the cabinet in the living room. They were half used, the wax melted into peculiar figures. I had placed them in the corners near the windows and popped a couple on the bathtub sides. Sliding down the water, my eyes closed at the feeling of heat soaking into me. I physically could feel each muscle in my body relax and become numb, limp. 

Jamie stood in a doorway looking at me quietly. In this light, he reminded me of a Greek statue. He was beautifully made. With long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He was fair with bits of freckles but slightly touched by the sun, toned in a way that reminded me floral honey.

“Come here,” I spoke quietly lifting my hand up from the depths of the water.

He walked over slowly, stepping gracefully as a cat, not breaking our gaze. I felt a tight knot in the bottom of my belly starting to ache just by looking at him. Soon his boxers were left aside together with the puddle of my clothes. The water raised slightly when Jamie got in, sitting behind me, my back pressed to his chest. His hands roamed on the water slick sides of my thighs and my head dropped down his shoulder. I hummed an appreciative ‘hmmm’ at his touch. It felt soothing and much needed after our long hike.

“I must tell ye something, Sassenach.” His voice sounded husky. It was the tone that pulled at the deepest strings inside me. “I’m sure ye bewitched me. Cause for God’s sake I canna imagine how I managed to live without ye before.”

My head turned slightly to the left as my lips had found the column of his neck. I loved to touch him. But not just in a sexual way. Being with him, simply existing in the same space, in a distance of millimetres of each other. This became my everyday dose of oxygen. I craved him. All of him. Including his soul and heart and all of his body. He seeped deep into my being and would remain there forever I was sure of it. And I could not remember life before him anymore. As it simply could not be there without James Fraser. I ached for him every time we separated and I would be a damn fool to deny that.

“I think I can’t imagine that either,” I whispered kissing my way down his torso. When he was well-loved with my lips, my mouth and hands Jamie pulled me up cradling my face between his palms.

“I could love ye, Claire. I could love ye well.”

I exhaled feeling his moist full lips tracing my collarbone. When Jamie lifted me up from the water that became our shelter of warmth and my hands circled around his neck I remembered.

When Jamie kissed the tip of my nose I remembered twisting my ankle two years ago on the slippery grocery store tile after the rain.

When his hands held me tightly, the drops scattering off my body I remembered calling first Geillis asking to bring me to A&E. 

When Jamie’s lips softly touched my forehead I remembered that I called Frank but he did not pick up being busy at the meeting.

When Jamie passed the first stair I remembered I stayed home and felt lonely.

When Jamie’s lips dragged down my neck I remembered that Frank had left to the conference in London saying that he’d call me several times a day to check on me.

When Jamie gently laid me down the bed I remembered feeling awfully lonely despite Frank’s words of reassurance and support, calls and promise to come back soon.

When Jamie’s thumb brushed over my nipple I remembered feeling empty.

When Jamie held me I felt safe. And when he leaned in to kiss me I whispered into his lips.

“I could love you too. I could love you well.”

[bigyack-com]

When Department Stores Were Theater

After the hundreds of jobs going poof and the thus-far inadequate discounts, the saddest thing about the closure of Barneys New York is that its signature naughty window displays will recede even further in collective memory.A Hail Mary campaign earlier this year imploring shoppers to go inside even as the store declared bankruptcy (“STRUT STRUT STRUT STRUT STRUT STRUT”) was but a faint echo of the era when subversive tableaus of papier-mâché public figures, found objects, condoms on Christmas trees and the occasional scampering vermin mesmerized crowds, offended cardinals and even sold some clothes.But “we’re in a post-window-display world,” said Simon Doonan, the Barneys O.G. window dresser, in a telephone interview, noting the “impenetrable facade” of Dover Street Market, heir apparent to the luxury avant-garde. Its New York entrance has only small, high apertures above pedestrian eye level.“In the old days, window displays were the primary form of marketing — fashion was the same as butcher shops and fishmongers,” he said. “Now, if you’re waiting till someone walks past your store, you’ve lost the fight.”Indeed, the bustling new Nordstrom on 57th Street dispenses with traditional boxed-in display windows entirely, replacing them with a shallow, wavy facade that John Bailey, a spokesman, assured would be festooned with red and white lights come Black Friday. The facade is “an interactive viewing experience for customers walking by,” he wrote in an email, “connecting the shopping experience in store to the energy of the city.” (And the energy of customers’ phones.) A young employee at the central help desk said elliptically that “our windows are our customer service.”Gather ’round, children, and let Auntie Alexandra tell of when department stores, now mostly glassy, anodyne places you go to exchange online purchases, used to put on a show. Sometimes more entertaining than the theater.First, though, a quick gallop through what remains of New York’s holiday windows in 2019, and the hopeful cornucopias within.At the doomed Barneys flagship on 61st Street, there was of course bubkes, just signs reading: “Everything Must Be Sold! Goodbuys, then Goodbye.” Inside on the fifth floor, female customers were listlessly flipping shoes to glance at the soles and calculate the markdown, as if with muscle memory from the much-lamented warehouse sale. Four creaky flights up, the power lunch spot Fred’s, named for Fred Pressman, Barneys’ charismatic chairman who died in 1996, was full — even as a worker held a headless naked mannequin steady by her neck on a hand truck, waiting for the elevator to go down, down, down.A few blocks away preens Bergdorf Goodman, the beautiful princess whose holding company, Neiman Marcus, muscled recently into the Hudson Yards, like a watchful mother-in-law moving into the guest cottage. There are no old-school windows at the gleaming new Neiman, being that it’s high up off the dirty street in a mall (and incidentally charging kids $72 per head for breakfast with Santa). But at Bergdorf, David Hoey, the store’s senior director of visual presentation, and his team have gamely produced a concept called Bergdorf GoodTimes. Literally gamely. Like, filled with actual games.One window was captioned “Queen’s Gambit” (chess); another, “Jackpot!” (pinball); another, “Winner Take All” (casino — perhaps a dry subconscious commentary on the high-stakes state of retail). Around the corner, a life-size board game, “Up the Down Escalator,” was dotted with fictional gift cards, coin of the online-shopping realm.Mr. Hoey’s sophisticated, colorful creations did not seem intended for little ones — and anyway those were scampering around across the street, splashing in small pools and peering into mirror-glass “sky lenses” outside the Fifth Avenue Apple store. Paging Dr. Lacan!Further east on 59th and Lexington Avenue, dear old Bloomingdale’s was flagrantly violating several of the decorative precepts set out by Mr. Doonan in his seminal 1998 book, “Confessions of a Window Dresser: Tales From a Life in Fashion.” Specifically: “do remember that technology is boring” and “don’t incorporate sex.”If Bergdorf is rolling the dice on the future of the department store — eroded perhaps irrevocably by Amazon’s mighty, corrosive flow — Bloomie’s is searching the stars. Not the celebrities whose daffy effigies used to populate Mr. Doonan’s windows, mostly with enthusiastic cooperation (Madonna, Magic Johnson, Norman Mailer, Prince, Queen Elizabeth), but a lavish commingling of astronomy and astrology titled Out of This World.Robots were placing ornaments on a tree and sitting at a synthesizer ready to play the carol of your choice at the push of a button. Google Nest, a sponsor, was poised to turn on the tree, the lights; the fire. And astronauts were floating in a “3, 2, 1, Gift Off,” or was it a “GIF Off?” Female mannequins embodying various figures of the zodiac were outfitted like go-go dancers, all pearls and feathers and curvature: propped up against each other on a pedestal as a recording played of John Legend singing, incongruously, “Christmas in New Orleans.” Inside, on the main floor, one embodying Cancer the Crab hung upside down from the ceiling: eyes closed, suspended over a hoop, hand-claws splayed, rotating slowly. Her bared, inverted legs conjured less the #MeToo era than the infamous “meat grinder” photo of the June 1978 Hustler magazine that feminists used to protest on Manhattan sidewalks.

Razzle-Dazzle in the Mezzanine

Mr. Doonan had called from Los Angeles, where he was, among other activities, promoting a monograph to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Maxfield, the boutique there. This even though when he was in the window-dressing business, “I was very anti-anniversary and I vetoed all of them. They just made the company seem old and boring. It looks dusty.”Though I agree 100 percent and moreover think the ascription of significance to particular numbers is as ridiculous as astrology, it also happens to be the 40th anniversary of a seismic and undersung event in department-store history: when the performer Elaine Stritch was the M.C. of an elaborate fashion show at Liberty of London, the emporium known for its fine fabrics. (Many women in those years still sewed household clothes from patterns.)Arranged by Peter Tear, then Liberty’s head of marketing and publicity, and choreographed by Larry Fuller of “Evita,” the show somehow managed to cross-promote the low-tar Silk Cut cigarette with a silk congress happening in London. Concordes were deployed with top models on board. Cocktails were concocted by the Café Royal down the road. Fifty-odd designers contributed special outfits for the occasion, including Giorgio Armani, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren and Yves Saint Laurent.Another was David Emanuel, who, with his wife and partner, Elizabeth, would design the show’s bridal gown (and later Princess Diana’s).“People gasped,” he said, remembering the Liberty event on a crackly trans-Atlantic phone line. “They were aching for ‘larger than life.’” Mr. Emanuel described Stritch — subject of my recently published biography, “Still Here” (hey, it’s the selling season) — in a sequined tuxedo jacket, singing among other numbers “Falling in Love Again” à la Marlene Dietrich to the enraptured ladies who lunch who had paid five quid admission apiece for the show, which ran thrice daily over the course of a week. “It has more punch and pulchritude packed into its 51 minutes than most West End musicals twice as long,” one newspaper commented.Mr. Doonan theorized that Liberty, fighting a dainty, twin-set image, had taken inspiration from what the storied retailer Marvin Traub was doing then at Bloomingdale’s. “The whole thing was that the store was the stage — the razzle-dazzle of flash and pizazz and lo and behold, there’s a swimwear fashion show with Pat Cleveland coming down the escalator,” he said. “Every day was ‘curtain up!’ at Bloomingdale’s.”Truly, what could be more of an ultimate fantasy set than the department store of yore, with its infinite “costumes,” props and built-in risers, its endless potential for comedy, dance, drama and even horror? Florenz Ziegfeld’s pre-code movie “Glorifying the American Girl,” showcasing his Follies, starts in one. The heroic airman in “The Best Years of Our Lives” returned to work as a soda jerk in another; ennobled by the theater of war, he chafed at his diminishment in the feminine one of trade.Barbra Streisand gamboled through Bergdorf in 1965 for her TV special, trying on fur coats and hats, spritzing perfume and singing a Fanny Brice-ish medley of “Second Hand Rose” and “Brother Can You Spare a Dime” to funny and glamorous effect. James Goldman and Stephen Sondheim’s “Twilight Zone”-inflected broadcast musical, “Evening Primrose,” was set in a department store called Stern’s, and featured a poet played by Anthony Perkins remaining after-hours, giddy at the idea of the creativity that his solitude, enhanced by all the products he needs, will stimulate. At one point he stands on an escalator belting, “I’m here! I’m here!” foreshadowing the famous anthem in Goldman and Sondheim’s own “Follies” taken up late in life by Stritch. (Later a young woman he discovers there sings of remembering snow: “Soft as feathers/ Sharp as thumbtacks.” She had been left there, in Hats, as a child by her preoccupied mother, but now with climate change the lyric sounds like prescient ecological lament.)Even after the fiasco of Andrew McCarthy at Philadelphia’s Wanamaker’s (R.I.P.) in “Mannequin” 20 years later, and the slow creep of the suburban mall, there was yet another remake of “Miracle on 34th Street.”“Where did Auntie Mame go when she lost all her money?” Mr. Doonan reminded. “Selling roller skates at Macy’s.”It’s hard to imagine, though not impossible, that department stores will remain important sites of commerce and culture much longer. But the largest one in the city is not about to go quietly. At Macy’s, which takes up an entire block, there is a jumble of every sort of window.There are old-fashioned windows devoted to the story of Virginia O’Hanlon, the little girl who wrote to The New York Sun in 1897 asking if there was still a Santa Claus. Around the corner, there are high-tech windows giving voice to a little girl who wants to be Santa Claus. And around another corner: still other windows filled simply with giant Barbies. Being female in the early 21st century is nothing if not a series of mixed messages, but this attempt to empower seemed already antiquated; if Mr. Doonan were still working on windows, surely he would have gone straight for Mx. Claus?The ghost of Barneys yet to come is at Saks Fifth Avenue, which has licensed its former rival’s name, and where windows have been themed with glittering corporate efficiency to the international blockbuster “Frozen 2.” This may delight the tourists, but city dwellers remembering the craft and chance and silliness of the old holiday extravaganzas — when the designers and the famous people and the window dressers were all sticking pins in each other, and the audiences crowded four-deep on the pavement for the free sideshow — will probably be left cold. Source link Read the full article

[psiotechniqa]

This must never be forgotten

[trans-advice]

this article has been copied & pasted in its entirety in case there’s a paywall. however, please try to read the article from the link first so that the journalist & newspaper staff get their wages. thank you.  

April 28, 2019, 3:11 AM CDT By Alex Berg

The first time JayCee Cooper walked out onto the platform at a women’s powerlifting competition, everything else fell away: her years-long internal struggle over her gender identity, her decision to leave men’s sports when she began transitioning, her doubts that she would ever feel safe if she returned to competitions.

When she stepped out in front of a hundred people in the gym in Fort Collins, Colorado, last September, all she focused on was the barbell, which she hoisted off the ground. And then she heard the cheers of the crowd: “Come on JayCee!” She had found not only a sport, but also a home.

“In a world that wants to take away our power and strength,” Cooper, 31, said recently by phone from her home in Minneapolis, “powerlifting is a way to gain that strength back and feel powerful and feel ownership of our own lives. It helps us find strength within ourselves and helps us find strength within our bodies.”

Cooper signed up for more competitions, but, to her astonishment, USA Powerlifting, the sport’s biggest federation, told her that she could not compete in the women’s division because of her gender identity.

In an email, USA Powerlifting said she was denied because she had a “direct competitive advantage” over the other women who were competing.

“It took me aback,” Cooper said. “I didn’t want to put myself into a situation where I obviously wasn’t welcome.”

Cooper’s story received national attention after she posted about it on Instagram in January. She drew support from fellow powerlifters and Rep. Ilhan Omar, D-Minn., who slammed the ban on transgender women competitors as “discriminatory” and “unscientific.”

It was just the latest in a growing number of battles over the place of transgender women athletes in competitive sports.

As transgender women have become more visible and sought to participate in women’s sports, athletic organizing bodies have grappled with how to respond, and critics of their inclusion have grown increasingly vocal, as well.

In March, tennis legend Martina Navratilova apologized for calling trans women “cheats” in a Sunday Times op-ed in which she wrote that “letting men compete as women simply if they change their name and take hormones is unfair.” Weeks later, marathoner Paula Radcliffe told BBC Sport that it would be “naive” not to institute rules. In an interview with Sky News in April, Radcliffe said that if trans people were permitted to compete without regulations, it would be “the death of women’s sport.”

For transgender people watching this issue play out, the debate — often based more in bias and assumptions than in science — is dehumanizing. Those who seek to exclude transgender women from sports sometimes imply that the athletes are adopting their identity to gain an edge in competition, a suggestion many find offensive.

“They don’t understand what it means to be a trans person,” Chris Mosier, a competitive runner and cycler and the first known transgender athlete to make a men’s U.S. national team, said.

“The folks who are improperly reporting on this are making it seem like cis men are pretending to be women to dominate sports,” he added, referring to people who are assigned male at birth and identify as men. “I can say that the amount of discrimination, harassment and challenges trans people face in their everyday lives would never be offset by glory.”

‘IT’S BEEN A ROLLER-COASTER’

Before becoming a powerlifter, Cooper lifted weights as part of her training for other sports. As a teenager growing up in Clarkston, Michigan, she was on the U.S. junior national curling team, competed in track and field in high school and rowed in college.

But she never felt fully comfortable on those all-boys teams.

“It’s been a roller-coaster,” Cooper said. “One of the reasons I stepped away from curling was that I wasn’t being my authentic self, and I was super depressed, and I needed some time away to figure out what that meant for me.”

Four years ago, she began hormone replacement therapy as part of her transition. She now identifies as transfeminine, which she sees as a more expansive identity than simply female.

Cooper first came across powerlifting in high school, but didn’t decide to compete until last year while recuperating from a broken ankle, and she was struck by the sport’s simplicity and supportive atmosphere. In powerlifting, athletes are divided into categories by sex, age and weight, and they compete in three types of lifts: squat, bench press and deadlift. Each movement is a test of static strength, force and focus.

“The barbell for me has been a very empowering way to be in my body, which is politicized every waking second, connect with it, and feel like I’m achieving something,” Cooper said.

“It’s a very almost spiritual feeling in the sense that I’m carrying all of this trauma with me and I’m literally focusing all of that into the barbell. In that moment, I get to control what’s going on.”

To lower her testosterone levels, Cooper takes spironolactone, a drug that is also used to treat high blood pressure and can mask steroid use.

USA Powerlifting, which follows rules set by the World Anti-Doping Agency, requires athletes to apply for an exemption to compete while taking the drug. The group has granted exemptions to powerlifters who have taken spironolactone to treat acne or polycystic ovary syndrome, Larry Maile, USA Powerlifting’s president, said.

As part of her medication exemption application, Cooper provided documentation that her testosterone levels have remained under the International Olympic Committee’s accepted limit for two years. (USA Powerlifting falls under the International Powerlifting Federation, which adopted the IOC’s guidelines that allow transgender women to compete in women’s divisions provided their testosterone is below 10 nmol/L for at least 12 months.)

But in December, Cooper’s exemption request was denied. She was told she could not compete in the women’s division of powerlifting because she had a “competitive advantage” as a transgender woman, according to an email exchange obtained by NBC News between Cooper and Dr. Kristopher Hunt, the chair of USA Powerlifting’s committee that reviews applications for medical exemptions.

"Male-to-female transgenders are not allowed to compete as females in our static strength sport as it is a direct competitive advantage,” Hunt said in one email to Cooper.

Pressed for clarification, he wrote a follow-up. “The fact that transgender male to female individuals having gone through male puberty confer an unfair competitive advantage over non-transgender females,” he said.

In a phone interview, Maile defended the decision and said the organization’s policy of barring transgender women — as well as transgender men who take testosterone — was not new, though it was not posted on USA Powerlifting’s website until this winter after Cooper applied for the exemption. Maile said that the IOC’s guidelines ultimately give organizations the discretion to make their own decisions about fair play. To reach the decision, he said USA Powerlifting researched the physical differences between men and women in terms of muscle density, connective tissue and frame shape.

“We’ve been referred to as bigoted and transphobic and a whole lot of less kind things, but it’s not an issue of that for us,” Maile said. “It’s an issue that we have to consider dispassionately and make our best judgment collectively about what the impact on fair play is for us, and that’s the basis on which we’ve proceeded.”

He added that powerlifting “is really unique, because we’re a high strength and low technique sport” — so the physiology of the competitors is particularly important.

Cooper doesn’t buy that argument, noting that women’s bodies come in all shapes and sizes, which may confer advantages for different sports.

“You look at a WNBA player, they’re pushing 6 feet versus someone doing gymnastics who’s 5 feet tall,” she said. “Their bodies are built completely differently. That’s what sports are about.”

‘THE SCIENCE IS IN ITS INFANCY’

The policies governing transgender athletes vary by sport.

The NCAA has policies similar to the International Olympic Committee and does not require athletes to undergo gender-confirming surgery, while USA Gymnastics does require it under some circumstances, according to research compiled by TransAthlete, a database of professional, recreational, college and K-12 sports’ policies on trans athletes.

Others aim to be more inclusive. USA Hockey, for example, offers options for nonbinary athletes who do not identify as male or female, as well as guidance for trans athletes.

While opponents of inclusion point to the “bigger, faster, stronger” argument as the basis of their fear that transgender women are taking over women’s sports, there are few examples of trans women who’ve excelled at a national or world level, according to Cyd Zeigler, co-founder of OutSports, an outlet that reports on LGBTQ athletes.

The scientific research on transgender athletes is in the early stages, and there is disagreement among experts about how to determine fair rules of competitions.

“There’s no simple or even complex biological test you can apply that tells you who’s a man and who’s a woman,” Roger Pielke Jr., director of the Sports Governance Center at the University of Colorado, said.

In the absence of such a test, testosterone levels are often used as a proxy to determine whether trans women are eligible to compete in women’s leagues. There is evidence that transgender women who are on hormone therapy have lower muscle mass and less aerobic ability than they did before, said Joanna Harper, a scientist who studies gender-diverse athletes and advises the International Olympic Committee. In a 2015 study she published on trans women who are distance runners, Harper, who is a trans woman and runner herself, found that after being on hormone therapy the women were running more than 10 percent slower.

But testosterone is an imperfect metric. Even among cisgender men and women, there is variance in the amount that is considered normal.

To deny Cooper “the right to compete based on ridiculous fear is completely unfounded,” Harper said.

‘TRANS LIFTERS BELONG HERE’

At the Minnesota State Championship in February — a USA Powerlifting meet where Cooper hoped to compete — almost a dozen athletes and 20 people in the audience protested her exclusion, according to Maxwell Poessnecker, a transmasculine-identified lifter from Saint Paul, Minnesota. Flanked by signs and wearing T-shirts that said, “I support trans lifters” and “trans lifters belong here,” the athletes stood on the lifting platform without competing to show their disapproval of the policy, Poessnecker said.

From little leagues to the Olympics, questions over transgender inclusion will continue to surface. Advocates who say concerns about “competitive fairness” are often rooted in gender stereotypes and scientific research is lacking believe policies should be as inclusive as possible.

“It’s hard to call anything model when it requires an individual to be tested and questioned,” said Breanna Diaz, a powerlifter and co-director of Pull for Pride, a charity deadlifting event that benefits homeless LGBTQ youth. If athletes “have a sincerely held gender identity, that should be sufficient,” she said.

Cooper, who co-directs Pull for Pride, hopes to use her experience with powerlifting as a way to drive the conversation about trans athletes.

On May 9, USA Powerlifting’s national governing body will meet to discuss its transgender inclusion policy.

“I really do love this sport,” Cooper said, “and it’s not fair to genetically eliminate an entire group of people.”

[the-gwalla]

wait wait hold up

you mean to tell me that that video isn’t just somebody’s 3DCG shitpost like Cool 3D World’s stuff or Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend? It’s actually from something?

welcome to my treasure trove

[sparkebun]

So uuuuhhhh, I’m an awful person

[dreths]

Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend

http://dlvr.it/R6q5sB

[itsworn]

Hot Things Going on at Shelby American!

Recently we’ve reported the return of the legendary Shelby G.T. 350R machines built at Shelby American’s Gardena, CA facility (formerly Carroll Shelby’s office and distribution warehouse). At a press conference today (May 17, 2018) came news that the company is expanding their line of offerings by bringing back the 1967 GT500 Super Snake and an updated version of Carroll’s own supercar, the Series 2!

1967 GT500 Super Snake

The 1967 Shelby Super Snake continuation cars will use 1967 donor Mustangs and include a Shelby serial number for the official Shelby registry. Only 10 fastbacks will be built, each with original signatures by Carroll Shelby and Don McCain who spearheaded the program in 1967.

“Shelby American’s line up of vehicles today is the most diverse in our 56-year history,” said Joe Conway, CEO of Shelby American. “From high-tech modern muscle to off-road super trucks, track day thrill rides and heritage cars like the continuation 1967 Shelby GT500 Super Snake, we offer something for everyone who wants to be best in class.”

Over the last several years, Shelby American has broadened its lineup in response to customer demand. The company introduced the 1968 Shelby Continuation GT500KR earlier this year and now it is returning a legend to the stable. The continuation cars are built to order in Pennsylvania for distribution through Shelby American.

“We’re fulfilling the dream of Carroll Shelby and Don McCain,” said Shelby American president Gary Patterson. “Shelby built an engineering study dubbed the ‘Super Snake’ for high-speed tire testing by Goodyear in 1967. When that successful test ended, Shelby American offered it to Mel Burns Ford in So Cal to retail to the public. Former Shelby American employee Don McCain approached Shelby about doing a limited run of cars. They carefully studied the idea but sadly, the timing did not work because the car was too expensive. The program never came to fruition, until now.”

Shelby chief engineer Fred Goodell randomly chose a white fastback for transformation in 1967. He first replaced the engine with a lightweight medium riser 427 motor. The race motor was fitted with a host of modifications that was said to increase output to 520 horsepower. Shelby added heavy duty front disc brakes, Detroit Locker rear end, rear traction bars and special Goodyear Thunderbolt tires. The Super Snake sported unique triple stripes and a redesigned grille for improved air cooling.

Debuting for the media at Goodyear’s San Angelo, Texas, test track, Shelby personally took the wheel of the Super Snake and was clocked at 170 mph. After turning the car over to Goodell for the 500-mile test, the Shelby Super Snake set a new top speed world record for its class.

The Super Snake was an expensive vehicle, which discouraged McCain and Shelby from continuing the program leaving only one built by Shelby American. The one-off prototype changed hands a few times over the years. Most recently, a collector paid over $1.3 million for it.

Fifty years later, the company will complete Carroll Shelby’s “unfinished business.” Another 10 of the muscle cars will be offered to enthusiasts worldwide.

The Continuation series Shelby GT500 Super Snakes are built from original 1967 Mustangs, with factory VINs and original titles. The donor cars are stripped to bare metal for transformation into the mighty Super Snake. Customers can opt for an original donor period Shelby fastback for transformation into a Super Snake.

A race-inspired big block V-8 remains the heart of the car, as the Continuation Shelby Super Snake is powered by a 427ci V-8 from Carroll Shelby Engine Co. making over 550 horsepower. Both aluminum and cast-iron blocks are available, backed by a 4-speed manual transmission. Just like the original, the cars will have disc brakes and the famous triple stripes. Before his passing a few years ago, McCain was deeply involved in the Shelby engine program and promoted the idea of a rebirth of the Super Snake program. He signed ten dash plaques for the cars, as did Carroll Shelby.

Patterson and the McCain family introduced the car to the media today and will again to enthusiasts during the Carroll Shelby Tribute event on Saturday, May 19, at Carroll Shelby International in Gardena. The event will include a car show, vendors, autograph session, adult trike races and more.

Super Snakes will be built to order and sold through Shelby American. The cars will start at $249,995 (US).

The Series 2

The other big news out of Shelby is the re-introduction of the Series 1, now completely updated, finally Ford powered, and renamed the Series 2 roadster. “Carroll Shelby’s first ‘clean sheet’ car, was the Shelby Series 1,” said Joe Conway, CEO of Shelby American. “Carroll always intended for that innovative chassis to be the first in a line of modern sports cars, which is why he called it the Series 1. The new Shelby Series 2 is the evolution of that minimalist car, offering breathtaking performance in a modern two seat roadster.”

The Series 2 story began with a dream in the 1990s. Carroll Shelby had built many vehicles in partnership with several companies based on a chassis or design from those carmakers. Around 1996, he decided to produce a car that was pure Shelby. Though it was a fresh design, the Shelby Series 1’s front engine, rear wheel drive layout was fairly traditional. The styling was lauded for being both sporty and aggressively handsome because it melded “big roadster” proportions with a variety of classic cues.

Crafted of lightweight composite materials, the Shelby Series 1 only weighed about 2,850 pounds, including its well-appointed leather trimmed interior, top, and air conditioning. The all-aluminum monocoque chassis was then, and is still, one of the stiffest chassis in the world, with the engine mounted aft of the front suspension for a nearly perfect 49/51 weight balance. The naturally aspirated (Oldsmobile) Aurora 4.0-liter DOHC V-8 engine was rated at 320 horsepower connected to a rear mounted 5-speed manual transaxle; a supercharged option increased horsepower to about 460. A total of 249 were built.

The new Shelby Series 2 emerged through a unique agreement between Shelby and Wingard Motorsports to create a handful of cars with the choice of an aluminum, carbon fiber, or one of the first titanium car bodies. Wingard can finish out the roller for customers, too.

“Several years ago, Wingard Motorsports purchased the remaining Shelby Series 1 chassis and parts,” said Gary Patterson, Shelby American President. “Working with Shelby, founder Bob Wingard revised the car to reduce weight by maximining the integration of billeted aluminum and carbon fiber components. He further refined the suspension, braking and drivetrain to allow an increase of more than twice the horsepower of the original car. The Series 2 is now more than 12% lighter and will support over 800 horsepower.”

The Shelby Series 2 is built on the original aluminum honeycomb monocoque frames with next generation hardware. It uses an inboard cantilevered suspension design for the front and rear, which minimizes the sprung wheel weight. Penske Shocks fine-tuned the suspension at their facility in Charlotte. The car has a big brake system with 6-piston calipers on all corners and custom 19-inch mono block performance wheels with Pilot Cup 2 tires.

Standard drivetrain configuration is for a 5-speed ZF transaxle torque tube coupled to a multi-disc clutch system mated to a Carroll Shelby Engine Company 427 FE or 427 Windsor motor. Other engine options can be supported, as well as multi-point seat belts and 4- or 6-point roll bars. However, the Shelby Series 2 will not come with cupholders.

Each commissioned Series 2 will be a unique and “one-of-one.” Custom interiors designed to accommodate most drivers with an incredible six inches of peddle adjustment will include carbon fiber Carroll Shelby signature seats. Aluminum bodies will be available in a brushed, polished, or painted finish with the Shelby signature racing stripes.

“While the Shelby Series 2 is based on the first-generation car, it’s a significant leap forward,” said Patterson. “It blends old school craftmanship and current technology, pushing the roadster into super car territory. It is the perfect car for collectors and enthusiasts globally who want the ultimate in exclusivity and to be completely engaged with the driving experience.”

The Shelby Series 2 includes a one-year warranty for parts and labor, as well as painted finishes. Shelby will offer a weekend training session at Spring Mountain Raceway near Las Vegas to new owners who want to maximize their driving enjoyment. Each car will be built to order and bear a Shelby American CSX5500 series serial number that will be recorded in the official Shelby American Registry. For more information, visit www.Shelby.com.

  The post Hot Things Going on at Shelby American! appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/hot-things-going-shelby-american/ via IFTTT

[jeffery-does-something-orig-blog]

Liked on YouTube: Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend

Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend Deep in the forest lived Billy and his charming companions. They peacefully honed their bodies and listened to music there. But a wave of development came upon the forests. One who would turn all to road. Kagamine Rin had come. Billy must stop the construction before all is turned to road via YouTube https://youtu.be/nk2wViKSh_M

[ultrashitpost]

[itsworn]

When Tires Need Burnin’, Petty’s Challenger Keeps Burnin’!

Late-model Challengers are cars of many “est’s.” Sometimes this is a good thing, sometimes not so much. When parked next to a new Camaro or Mustang, the Challenger measures the longest, widest, tallest, and heaviest. No bueno. Nevertheless, with 392 cubic inches and 485 hp on tap, the Scat Pack Challenger upholds traditional muscle car values with the utmost conviction by boasting the biggest and brawniest naturally aspirated motor of the trio. It just happens to be wrapped in the prettiest sheetmetal, too. Muy bueno. The best way to add mas bueno to the formula is by infusing some more spice into the Challenger’s suspension. For the sake of Mopar pride, General Tire (a subsidiary of Continental) and Petty’s Garage teamed up to build the ultimate 2016 Scat Pack Challenger capable of whooping Camaros and Mustangs in battlefields both straight and twisty.

At first blush, the brash graphic treatment here may look like a gimmick, but there’s nothing gimmicky about a 700hp supercharged Hemi Challenger—painted Petty Blue—built by Richard Petty’s own shop, Petty’s Garage. Unlike the stripe and wheel packages that gussied up many a promotional vehicle of yore, the General Tire Challenger oozes authentic hot rodding DNA from every single one of its mechanically enhanced chromosomes. Evidently, there are some real car guys at General Tire who knew exactly what to do when tasked with promoting the company’s new partnership with ARCA. What better way to celebrate General Tire’s new role as the official tire supplier of the grassroots circle track series than by building a modern-day tribute to the legendary Mopars from stock car racing history?

Easy answer: There is no better way. “When our General Tire brand started sponsoring ARCA in 2016, we wanted to mark the occasion by building something that paid tribute to the rich history of circle track racing at the grassroots level, so working with Richard Petty was a no-brainer,” Greg Vandermark of parent company Continental Tires explains. “The Mopars Richard Petty dominated the sport in are some of the most legendary cars in racing history, and we wanted a car built in the likeness of Richard’s race cars. We also wanted a car that showcases the performance of General Tire’s new G-Max AS-03 and upcoming AS-05 performance all-season tires. These are the top-of-the-line tires for the brand, and the Challenger’s supercharged Hemi and Petty-tuned suspension can certainly put them to the test.”

Getting 700 hp and 675 lb-ft of torque to hook through an independent rear suspension and 275mm-wide tires is no small feat. Likewise, Chrysler’s LX/LC platform in stock form isn’t exactly known for its athleticism. Addressing both, Petty’s Garage offers a full catalog of bolt-on suspension upgrades for Challengers, Chargers, and Chrysler 300Cs. To stiffen up the chassis for the additional loads it’s destined to endure, Petty’s Garage installed a set of braces between the front struts and rear shocks. Taking advantage of that extra stiffness are double-adjustable coilovers as well as three-way adjustable sway bars that measure 35mm up front and 22mm out back. Polyurethane bushings replace the squirmy rubber units to anchor the rear cradle more solidly in place and reduce wheel hop. Sticking it all to the pavement is General Tire G-Max AS-03 rubber wrapped around 20-inch Forgeline SC3C wheels.

Just like a good circle track machine, the Challenger’s handling is neither tight nor loose. The 4,200-pound Mopar just flat-out grips. “Since the Challenger is so much heavier than a Camaro or Mustang, one of our primary goals with this car was to significantly improve the handling. Getting power out of these new Hemi motors and tuning them right takes a fair amount of expertise, but getting LX and LC cars to handle like a true performance car is a huge challenge that took a lot of effort,” says Will Cheek of Petty’s Garage. “The before and after difference in handling is night and day. The car itself is a one-off build, but all the suspension parts are available off the shelf on our website.”

Sure, precise handling is nice, but any car that wears the Challenger nameplate must go fast in a straight line. With 392 cubic inches of Hemi shuddering beneath the shaker hood, Scat Pack Challengers are pretty darn stout from the factory, ripping mid-12-second e.t.’s in stock trim. Petty’s Garage upped the ante even more by installing a Magnuson supercharger system set to eight psi of boost. Getting the exhaust molecules moving more freely are a set of Kooks long-tube headers and a MagnaFlow after-cat exhaust system. These simple yet effective tweaks increase output to 700 horsepower and 675 lb-ft.

While the tough guy in all of us can pretend like performance is the only thing that matters, it’s impossible not to go ga-ga over the Challenger’s retro paint and graphics. Inspired by the greatest Mopar race machines ever piloted by the King, Petty’s Garage started the transformation by spraying the car in a fresh coat of BASF/RM Petty Blue paint. Other body enhancements include a custom rear fascia and a functional rear spoiler that looks like it’s been pulled straight off of a Cup car. Of course, there are stock car-style sponsor graphics running behind the front wheel arches, as well as the legendary number 43 graphics applied to the doors.

Undoubtedly, cynics will declare that the General Tire Challenger is just the latest car in a long line of one-off or limited-edition models that a famous racer signed off on after it was already finished. Little do these tools know that the winningest driver in NASCAR history doesn’t just attached his name—and the legacy of seven championships and 200 race wins that come with it—to any run-of-the-mill machine.

Rest assured that Richard Petty himself played a very active role in the car’s development. “Richard didn’t just want to put a supercharger on the car and call it a day. He really encouraged us to build an all-around performance car along with a suspension package that could handle all that power,” Cheek recounts. “Richard’s a big fan of the single-outlet center exhaust, and he really pushed us to do it. In order to make that happen, we took an off-the-shelf MagnaFlow exhaust system, then merged the tailpipes together off each side of the car to create a single center outlet. This required modifying the floorboard and building a custom rear fascia around the exhaust outlet.”

After Petty’s Garage put the finishing touches on the Challenger and delivered it to General Tire, the car has lived a busy life of touring the ARCA race schedule. At events, it shares the stage next to one of Richard Petty’s infamous Road Runner stock cars in a retro-themed display. Instead of giving the car away to just one lucky winner, General Tire plans on auctioning the car off. Part of the proceeds will help fund the next project car, but more importantly, a generous portion of the proceeds will get donated to Victory Junction. Founded by the Petty family in honor of Richard’s late grandson, Adam, the race-themed camp gives children who face challenging medical conditions the opportunity to experience camp just like any other kid.

As a young teenager who was wise beyond his years, Adam Petty dreamed of building a camp like Victory Junction in scenic North Carolina. Unfortunately, Adam tragically lost his life in a racing accident at just 19 years of age, but his dream lived on. With the help of their friends and the racing community, the Petty family banded together and opened the gates to Victory Junction in 2004.

The Petty legacy runs deep, spanning four generations of racers, and some of the most iconic race cars in all of motorsports. On the surface, the General Tire/Petty’s Garage collaboration elevates the Challenger platform to a 700hp supercharged beast capable of whooping Camaros and Mustangs in battlefields both straight and twisty. Beyond the machinery, however, is a car that doesn’t just tap into the Petty legacy, it also vows to keep it going in more ways than one.

Even with the Magnuson supercharger bolted in place, the Shaker hood ducting remains functional—a pretty significant feat. The adjustment knobs for the front struts are within easy reach.

As legend has it, one day when Richard Petty and his friend were painting his race car, they realized they had some leftover cans of blue and white, but not enough of each to paint the car one solid color. Their solution was mixing the blue and white cans together. Petty Blue would become so popular that today the color is trademarked.

The impetus behind the General Tire Challenger is the company’s new G-Max AS-03 and AS-05 all-season performance tire family, worn proudly here in a 275/45R20 footprint on a 20 x 9.5-inch Forgeline roller.

The cabin features a Barton Industries shifter and Petty’s Garage floormats. The headrests are custom embroidered with the Petty’s Garage logo as well.

To create the slick single-outlet exhaust, Petty’s garage modified the tailpipes of an off-the-shelf MagnaFlow system. In essence, it’s a true dual system whose driver- and passenger-side tailpipes merge into a single center outlet.

Built from 4130 chrome-moly tubing, the rear shock tower brace weighs just 6.8 pounds, yet substantially stiffens the chassis. Instead of merely attaching both shock towers together, the brace triangulates chassis load into the framerail behind the rear seat.

2016 Dodge Scat Pack Challenger Owner: General Tire Ft. Mill, SC

Engine Type: Chrysler 392ci “Apache” Gen III Hemi small-block Block: stock Oiling: stock Rotating assembly: stock Cylinder heads: stock Camshaft: stock Valvetrain: stock Induction: Magnuson supercharger, intake manifold, and intercooler Ignition: stock Exhaust: Kooks 2-inch long-tube headers, MagnaFlow after-cat exhaust Cooling system: stock Output: 700 hp at 6,200 rpm and 675 lb-ft at 5,500 rpm

Drivetrain Transmission: stock with Barton Industries shifter Rear axle: stock five-link independent rear suspension with Petty’s Garage urethane bushings

Chassis Front suspension: Petty’s Garage double-adjustable coilovers, strut tower brace, and adjustable sway bar Rear suspension: Petty’s Garage double-adjustable coilovers, shock tower brace, and adjustable sway bar Brakes: factory Brembo 14.2-inch discs and four-piston calipers, front; Brembo 13.8-inch discs and four-piston calipers, rear

Wheels & Tires Wheels: Forgeline SC3C 20×9.5, front and rear Tires: General Tire G-Max AS-03 275/45R20, front and rear

The post When Tires Need Burnin’, Petty’s Challenger Keeps Burnin’! appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/tires-need-burnin-pettys-challenger-keeps-burnin/ via IFTTT

[funharing-blog]

Today I have prepared two very strange surprises for you. First is the vidoe called “Ultimate Muscle Roller Legend”. I wonder whether someone can understand what it is about. 

Second surprise is a blog that randomly generates each day a new pair of colors. It might have some deeper meaning. But I am not sure http://colorandcolor.tumblr.com/

[whattheshitisgoingon]

I didnt feel that last gif quite portrayed this master piece so here it is.

The true power of the gays.