It's not raining so it's a TR day. I have a week left of tax afore it's SORNd so it is most definately a TR day. It started - as always. It wasn't particularly happy - as always. It popped and spluttered a bit - it does do that until it gets warm and then it is heel, toe and choke juggling time. I need cash and a sarnie so I stop at Tesco Express on the way. Very bad idea. "Nah, I aint starting, you can feck off". So there I sat, watching people go past in their nice warm and reliable cars. Backup called for.
We tried bump starting it in the car park. Nope. We tried on the way out of the car park.Nope. We towed it up the hill and round the corner. It would appear that the feckin hazards don't work either. The tow rope broke. We tried pushing it up the hill. Me arse. Arnie in his prime wouldn't shift that. A bloke pushing a pram had to help. What a fecking sight! What a fecking nail! Eventually, I sailed around the corner desperately trying to bump the bastard. Huzzah!
And it was still not happy. And it was backfiring alot. And quite frankly I am sick to fecking death of it. This isn't enjoyable. To own one of these very crap cars, one needs a shite load of dollars or alot of mechanical skills. I have neither. The to do list gets longer - I may just work on that and post again later today afore I start the mammoth quest to return home to my loveones - and thus the potential bill gets bigger. Neil spent £5000 on it and it is still crap! My patience is getting smaller. So far it owes me about £1700. If you know any one with a mental disorder and £1700, please tell me.
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