This week's PostSecret confirmed everything I've ever suspected about Corvette owners:

They're building more office space next door to us. I find it mind-blowing, the very idea of generating more office space in a city with what has to be millions of square feet of vacant space already. But that's not what this blog entry is about.

The thing I find hilarious is that whenever I step out the door, I hear someone exclaiming about how ugly it is, even though it looks about the same as our building. I guess all it takes to numb us to hideous bay-area office park architecture is a bit of landscaping.

The first thing I should say is that this isn't really our TV. We're babysitting it for a few weeks while its actual owner shops for an apartment big enough to store its awesome girth. (Here's a suggestion, Mark: GROUND FLOOR.) Let's see how many days it takes us to be sorry that we agreed to take it.

Certain people might accuse me of a bit of thunder-stealing, but I swear it was entirely a coincidence. When an overly caffeinated friend abruptly threatens to stuff a 65 inch TV into your living room, you don't have a lot of time to hem and haw. You gotta just go with it.

Just a word of advice when working on a Subaru: Never accidentally drop anything smaller than a refrigerator into your engine compartment, if you ever want to see it again.

My new (and most expensive ever) car toy finally arrived last week. It's the little things, really--- like the subtle, unobtrusive markings on the two boxes.

And the diplomatically worded "THIS PRODUCT WILL KILL YOU DO NOT USE IT OH MY GOD" disclaimer that was printed in 38 places on the packaging.

And the way the instructions describe how in order to fit these ridiculous over-sized brakes onto my car I might need to bend some stock parts out of the way to ensure they would fit.

After a week of frantic installation to get ready for Thunderhill (more on that later), terrifyingly expensive sounds coming from the front of the car, and the final silencing of the sounds with a carefully placed zippy-tie, I have a car that actually stops.

There will not be any cracking of THESE rotors. Don't ever say that I don't solve problems in a thorough (albeit occasionally expensive) way.

(It's hard to see in the picture, but the calipers clear the wheels by only 2mm. When the wheel's balancing weights rotate past the caliper, the clearance is reduced to 1mm. Wheels don't flex that much, right?)

It's nice to know that I still kind of remember how to race, even though I haven't really been doing much of it this season. Just like riding a bike. A four-wheel drive, turbocharged bike. Yeah.

It's also nice to see that the 4 of us who have been racing the longest beat all of the young whipper-snappers who think they can come beat up on us old-timers with their fancy BMWs. I guess experience really does count for something.

Either that or sinking unholy amounts of money into our cars. That might also be it.

I just found out that my grandmother named her new sailboat Serenity. I wonder if she knows how cool that is?

As a result of my new toy (more on that later), I have had to interact with a lot of car fluids recently. So now that I'm high on brake cleaner, I would like to share with you some of my insights on this subject:

All car fluids appear to adhere to 3 basic design principles:

1. Performs the intended function


2. Extremely toxic


3. Delicious

Brake fluid? A cool, refreshing smell with light, minty hints. But it's a severe skin irritant, and it causes kidney damage.

Brake cleaner? Smells like whip cream propellant. Causes blindness.

Engine oil? Smooth, pleasing texture, light, earthy smell. Stays in the environment for centuries without breaking down. Kills fish, poisons animals. Cannot be disposed of in landfills, must be accumulated in tanks and held indefinitely.