It seems like for every step forward we take in vehicle technology, we take another step back. For every awesome BMW GINA, there's an equally retarded Segway PT.
These are the baffling contraptions that remind us that while thinking outside the box is cool and all, you should probably make sure that there isn't a cheaper, less unintentionally hilarious version already in the box.
The best thing about a treadmill (apart from the many hilarious Youtube videos from drunk and/or uncoordinated people trying to use them) is the fact that you can run on them without having to go outside. This is great if you live in a place with terrible weather, if you need to look after kids or if you're a vampire who wants to stay in shape.
Enter the SpeedFit Treadmobile, the revolutionary new fitness vehicle that takes everything you love about treadmills and removes it. To fully appreciate the craptasticosity that is the TreadMobile, check out this handy promotional video.
Apparently, the creator of the Treadmobile looked at a treadmill and thought, "Well, that's pretty good, I guess. But what if we put some wheels on it and, in the process, ruined the only useful aspect of treadmills? It would be fucking awesome, that's what."
Sadly, he seems to have neglected some basic design concepts. First off, this thing is goddamn enormous, making it almost impossible to turn. Second, if it gets hit by a car it is going to get fucking pulverized, as will you if you're unlucky enough to be operating it at the time. Third, if you want to have a friend along for the ride, he or she has to strap themselves into a thong in the back. Alright, maybe that part is kind of awesome.
But by far the most baffling aspect is that this is a machine that moves forward when you run. If you just cut out that middle man and, you know, actually run, you'll save a cool $6,000. Yep, you read that correctly. Six grand.
What You Could Buy Instead:
A pair of running shoes and a top-of-the-line treadmill. And you'd still have $3000 left over.
It's pretty hard to screw up a bicycle. Two wheels, a metal frame, a pair of handlebars, an uncomfortable seat and some skintight shorts to accentuate your crotch bulge, and you're already a few weeks away from qualifying for the Tour de France.
But one man thought differently. One man thought, "This bike thing is just too damn easy. What can I do to mess that up?" That man is Curtis DeForest, and he is a little bit crazy.
For some reason DeForest doesn't like the idea that bikes don't require an obscene amount of effort, and thus he made an unholy union between a bicycle and the type of wheelchair you probably see in your dreams right after a drug-induced bike accident. And with that, the HyperBike was born.
The big selling point of the Hyperbike as far as Curtis is concerned is that you have to use your entire body to move it, which translates into pedaling with your hands and feet, guaranteeing you expend every available ounce of energy and dignity while reaching your destination.
Even if you have spent years lamenting the ease and maneuverability of the typical bicycle, there's still another huge problem: Where in the hell do you ride the damn thing? It's too wide to use on the sidewalk or in a bike lane. Hell, storing the thing in your garage probably means you have to get rid of a car. It's pretty obvious that the only real world use for a HyperBike is to slowly pedal around a deserted parking lot while a man with a white ponytail talks about how awesome it is.
Despite all of this, DeForest has big plans for the HyperBike, confidently predicting that it will replace the car. We're sure that'll happen too, right after the poached egg replaces the human brain and the intense desire for public ridicule replaces common sense. Given the fact that NASA has decided to fund him, this may have already happened.
What You Could Buy Instead:
A normal goddamned bike.