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"Here in my car", said 80s pop hero Gary Numan, "I feel safest of all". He obviously never shared the same stretch of road as me, then. Automotive tales of mirth and woe, please.

(, Thu 22 Apr 2010, 12:34)
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2 little pearoasts for you, sorry. (They do both involve cars AND vomit, though, so should be ok?
#1 18th birthday Guiness story
Briefly a mate gets collected from the pub at the end of his 18th birthday session by his Sister in her 1 year old Fiesta 1.3 SuperSport. (That dates it to about 1984.) To cut a long story short he fell asleep as soon as his arse hit the seat, but woke up just before they got home, just in time to projectile vomit over the inside of the windscreen. It ran straight down the 'screen into the demister vents and thence to the heater. Any what didn't go there just continued down behind the dashboard. Sadly, on the mk1 Fiesta the carpets are installed before the dash, so you can't get them out. At all. Not even if your little brother has managed to get a lungful of guiness puke down behind them. Yuk. She had to get rid of the car a couple of months later when the winter weather took hold, as it couldn't be driven without the demisters, and now it couldn't be driven WITH the demisters either. She couldn't sell it as no one managed to complete a road test (it really was that bad) so she p/x'ed it with the local used car lot. (Came back with an XR2 so some good came of it). By coincidence, some years later, I ended up working with a relative of the car dealer and the car was legendary, they'd sold it several times but it just kept coming back...

#2 18th birthday lager story.
Apprentice type at the Saab garage where I used to work got taken out for a posh Chinese by the entire staff of the garage. Towards closing time most of the staff head off for last orders at the local boozer. I'm a pig so I was still face down in the Chinese (we ordered too much and I hate to see it go to waste etc). By this stage the apprentice (whom we'll call Matt, for that is his name), had imbibed enough of that Chinky lager to make an elephant puke. It wasn't his first time on the juice, but I doubt he'd ever been on a binge that had been "maintained regardless of cost" before. He was doing really well, poor lad, and had even made a good showing in the food department. At about 1am they're stacking chairs rather obviously so we take the hint and head off. I go home and the Parts Manager agrees to take Matt home in his lovely Saab 900 Turbo. Mistake. Matt is still awake and giving directions for the first part of the journey. By the time they reach the huge housing estate where he lives, he is, however, out cold. After more than an hour of driving around and prodding Matt and asking "is this your road?" and getting nothing more than a groan for a reply, the Parts Manager stops the car & beats Matt into some semblance of Sobriety, enough for him to volunteer a 'phone number. Matt's dad was not impressed as it was by now going on 3am. (Why do people have children then get upset when stuff like this happens, it's like they didn't do this stuff when they were young?) By the time Matt's dad had got dressed and come and found them Matt had woken up enough to try to puke out the window. He missed and instead completely filled the (large 3 door) door pocket with Vermicelli Noodles in a sea of Lager. This didn't all fit in the door pocket so the rest was used to make a small lake in the front footwell. Needless to say the smell was impressive, aided by the fact that it was mid-winter and you would freeze without the heater. The happy ending is that the parts man was outside his house again at 7.30 am to take him to work so that he could valet the car... Nice touch.

I've just read through some of my old postings, and quite a few seem to be about poo / pee / vomit horror with a loose motoring connection. I'm not sure what that says about me as a person?
(, Sun 25 Apr 2010, 12:31, Reply)

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