Like I’ve said in the past, I suffer from intense car sickness. Seriously, it you want me to endure a lengthy road trip from the back seat, you’d better throw down a tarp or two. And, maybe, wear a rain slicker. Or better yet, let me sit in the freakin’ front seat.
Well, it turns out that you don’t have to actually be IN a car to get car sick. And that even Barry Weiss, the master of all things wheeled, can be lured into a good vomit every now and then.
Barry’s Tethered Car
Barry’s little tethered car, by the way, is possibly the cutest thing ever found on the show. Besides Barry, himself.
It’s like minus gazillion outside today–and that’s without the windchill. We Canadians are the toughest people alive, but I’m tired of being tough. I want to schlep my pasty white, vitamin D deficient carcass to the golden California sunshine and thaw out my perpetually frosty toes (which would be greatly helped if I put on socks. But I hate socks. I’m a barefoot kind of gal). Did I tell you that we have about two feet of snow out there?
Barry Weiss proudly states that he is a born and raised Californian. He has likely never endured weather-induced hardship. Or had to drive in freezing rain. Or put snow tires on his Cowboy Cadillac. I wish he’d invite me to swim in his outdoor pool–which by the way, Canadians only get to enjoy for 5 or 6 months of the year. I’m on a well. It would look like I was swimming in apple juice–or a giant urine sample. Ack.
I’m not fussy though. A stay in any Beverly Hills mansion would be divine–not quite as divine as one that comes with Barry, but divine just the same. It would appear that Barry feels the same way as evidenced by this clip:
According to Hollywood
spies Paparazzi, Barry actually lives in a 1928 Spanish Revival Home on a street named after Cecil B. DeMille in L.A.’s posh Laughlin Park neighbourhood–kitty corner to Natalie Portman. Here are some shots:
Pretty sweet digs. Surely, he must have a guestroom that a winter-weary Canadian can borrow. I’ll even polish his cars.
I recently wrote a blog at The Embiggens Project about a Kansas town called Spasticville. As a complete and utter klutz, I was relieved to know that, finally, there was somewhere that I would fit in.
I have fallen in a hole at Walmart and broken my arm; dropped an old-school metal typewriter on my foot and broken it (the foot, not the typewriter. Nothing could break that thing); spilled boiling noodle water on my belly button; fried my arm and wondered what the funny burning smell was; fell off my high school stage and landed in the splits (doing some major ligament damage); and managed to become airborne after a Honda Accord collided with my butt. I am spastic.
I am quite pleased, however, to discover that Barry Weiss is a fellow klutz. Not only have stray storage locker items tried to render him unconscious, but, as the following video shows–sometimes walking and talking should never be attempted at the same time.
Perhaps, he and I can
limp traipse off into the sunset and suffer sunstroke live happily ever after in the unfortunate happy town of Spasticville, Kansas.
I love strange-looking cars. Um, perhaps not “Gremlin-strange”–that was just an all-round bad look. The Aztec was strange, but deplorable. Perhaps, “strange” isn’t the word I am going for. How about “quirky?” That’s a good word. Strange, but in a fun way. The HHR is strange (and ugly), but not quirky. It gives me the hives.
The Citroen DS, for example, is …um…quirky. Strange in a good way. I love it. The Barracuda’s bubble back window=cool. The Datsun Fairlady is strange and cute, which equates to quirky. My grandfather had a fastback Dodge Charger when I was a kid–in a copper penny colour. Loved that car. Again, quirky.
I actually drove around in the back seat of this thing without throwing up. Fond memories.
Barry Weiss’s DecoLiner is a prime example of “strange” in a good way. It’s shiny, bulbous (round always seems to be a good look for a car–unless you’re a Pacer), and really makes the driver feel like “King of the Road.” Plus, you get the thrill of grazing the top of your scalp on highway underpasses.
Here is an interview with the man who created this automotive wonder…
And, here is Captain Barry Weiss and Brandi Passante eating burritos in his new beast…
I get car sick. It’s no secret. You want to relive the Exorcist’s vomit scene, simply throw me in the backseat and stop hard at a few red lights. Or drive in reverse. If you want me to wretch from the tip of my toes, add a bit too much heat. I’m nauseated thinking about it.
I would, however, risk my stomach contents for a ride through the hills with Barry Weiss in his hot rod. For one thing, I’d get to sit in the front. For another, I LOVE the feel of wind whipping me in the face. I’m being serious. And, best of all, it’s Barry.
And I’d probably be calmer and cooler than the dude from the Web Show.
Day 8 and no one has spotted Barry Weiss at this blog yet. Either my experiment is failing or he has been donning one of his favourite disguises.
He may be dressed like this:
Keep an eye out for anyone wearing a toque, several layers of uncoordinated clothing, or anyone appears to be desperately in need of dental work.
I wonder who Victor is. And, how in the hell did he get his hands on an oxygen tank? That is an oxygen tank, isn’t it?
Perhaps, Barry would like to reminisce about the time he burned rubber and almost asphyxiated himself.
By the way, I have to thank Barry for introducing me to the Lotus Europa. This is one cool car. And, for also teaching me about the etiquette of flatulence. According to the ever suave Mr. Weiss, it is okay to fart anytime after the third date–which makes me wonder what kind of gas-laden women he has been spending time with.
Another item to add to my Cars to See Bucket List
It’s been 6 days and Barry still hasn’t been spotted hovering around this site. But I am a persistent little mite and will continue to claw my way up the Google Search Engine.
Let’s face it–Barry has great hair. My husband wishes that he had half the hair on his head that Mr. Weiss does. And, it turns out that not all that long ago he sported a thick, long ponytail. And it looked hot.
Here’s Barry’s appearance on the webshow with the Cowboy Cadillac, a kinky nurse’s outfit, and some intriguing socks. Watch it and it’ll all make sense.
If you see this “person of interest” in close proximity to this blog, please notify me at once.
So, it is Day 2 of my “will-Barry-Weiss-ever-find-this-blog” social media experiment.
As we all know, Barry Weiss is a sucker for a flash car. He owns a whole fleet of them. And the web is filled with pictures of each of these prized possessions. Pictures that are featured on sites and blogs that rank higher on Google search results than this fledgling blog does. Which gives me an idea….
Here’s Barry’s custom Cadillac that he says is one giant blind spot.
The Cowboy Cadillac
And the bubble car that has been referred to in fart jokes. Apparently, you don’t want to be in here with a person who has gas.
The Deco-Liner, which is a bitch to back up.
And my favourite.
Barry, did I miss any?