Monday, 19 July 2010

I can hear a squeak

So after almost four years of dedicated service, our little old ford escort has finally expired. In a blaze of steam infested glory she ground to a halt on the side of the M27 yesterday afternoon on the way back from a committee meeting in Brighton, service eh?

The little girls head gasket exploded as she rolled to a stop hissing and smoking with rage and I suspect just a little fury. Shortly after a very nice man from the AA turned up to transport her lifeless body back to Dobbo central. As we pulled away I think I heard one last gasp for life, but alas, it was to late, she was gone.

So now the mine field that is buying a new car begins, and a total fucking mine field it is. You see the problem with buying a new car is that the people who sell them, seem to more often then not, turn into complete and utter tossers. It would appear that some thing happens to car sellers that make it absolutely imperative to lie like a bastard.

However, I know this is not always the case. I'm sure the world still holds one or two people who are willing to put honesty before profit, I just need to find them. Of course even if I do, that won't stop the weeks and weeks of paranoia that come every time I buy a new car. That utter certainty I can hear a squeak that is surely going to result in the rear axial overtaking us in the fast lane of the motorway. Still, Ill have a go, as I always do. Maybe someone will surprise me.