What has your "friend" been up to?
Discussion
SprintSpeciale said:
Tell your friend that is the only recorded example of a Krooklock having prevented the removal of a car...
Alas, one of these, so, while no match for the resourceful scrote, not as easy to pry off as some are, and my friend had neither the tools nor the desire to cut through his steering wheel.NB: serving suggestion. Honda not included.
http://www.amazon.co.uk/4Tress-Professional-Silver...
Vaud said:
Breadvan72 said:
Breadvan73 said:
Indeed. This thread is for "friends". In the unlikely event that any of us has an actual friend, this thread is not about him.
trashbat said:
Breadvan72 said:
In 2011 I had a 1973 Lotus Europa Special (in fact it was built in 1972, but not registered until 1973). I sold it, but in 2012 I had a 1972 Lotus Europa Twin Cam. I have sold that too, and could change my name to "Some bloke on the internet who used to have some old Lotus and then had another one but hasn't got either of them now", but I am not sure that my friend would approve.
I'd assumed that you'd made a name change - quite brilliantly, I thought - just for this thread, such that the honest and right-thinking Breadvan72 might later claim his lesser-moralled twin had "posted it and ran away".But no. How disappointing.
The trouble with keys. Here is a verse by a real friend of mine called Kate White.
http://www.poetryschool.com/news/pighog-and-poetry...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Old-Madness-National-S...
Your Trouble With Keys...
It's as if you don't want to hold them
like they'll scald. They slide out
of your pockets in cabs, insinuate
themselves into the crevice of the back seat.
At airport security you turn them out
into the tray and, with them, the intention
to pick them up again. That time you swam
with them and they sank into a clutch of urchins.
Unnerving, your tendency on arriving home,
distracted by my welcome, the cat
winkling herself out between your ankles
and the slight stick of the lock, to leave
the key street-side - its partner dangling -
like a jag toothed knife in the door all night.
And us in our bed, at peace, unaware
the walls have gone and anyone
could find us, careless in our sleep.
http://www.poetryschool.com/news/pighog-and-poetry...
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Old-Madness-National-S...
Your Trouble With Keys...
It's as if you don't want to hold them
like they'll scald. They slide out
of your pockets in cabs, insinuate
themselves into the crevice of the back seat.
At airport security you turn them out
into the tray and, with them, the intention
to pick them up again. That time you swam
with them and they sank into a clutch of urchins.
Unnerving, your tendency on arriving home,
distracted by my welcome, the cat
winkling herself out between your ankles
and the slight stick of the lock, to leave
the key street-side - its partner dangling -
like a jag toothed knife in the door all night.
And us in our bed, at peace, unaware
the walls have gone and anyone
could find us, careless in our sleep.
My friend lived in Hackney in the late 1980s, in a supposed yuppie enclave of Victorian houses surrounded by full on urban combat zones. He had an E30 Bimmer 325i that he liked (but had no clue how to drive properly, being young, overpaid, and devoid of all talent and judgment). This was in the days when all BMW drivers were tailgating w
kers with arms too short to reach the indicator switch, before that mantle passed to the Audi drivers.
One summer night my friend carelessly left the Gitmobile parked in the street outside his bijou pad with the windows down, the sunroof open, and the doors unlocked. Nothing untoward ensued. Then he moved to Chelsea, and within a few weeks the (locked) car was vandalised, broken into, etc. Rant, moan, Daily Mail, UKIP, blah, blah, etc.
kers with arms too short to reach the indicator switch, before that mantle passed to the Audi drivers. One summer night my friend carelessly left the Gitmobile parked in the street outside his bijou pad with the windows down, the sunroof open, and the doors unlocked. Nothing untoward ensued. Then he moved to Chelsea, and within a few weeks the (locked) car was vandalised, broken into, etc. Rant, moan, Daily Mail, UKIP, blah, blah, etc.
My friend, in his single years, sought to impress his new new hot actress girlfriend by taking her flying, but, having landed at an airfield west of London for tea and buns, lost the keys for the aeroplane in the grass somewhere between the aircraft parking area and the club house, and had to escort said glamourous squeeze back to London on a slow train full of giffers and grockles. # Jetset lifestyle
My, er, friend recently bought himself a 1976 Land Rover, as one does. He used to own an old Landy some years ago, had done the course, read the book, and blah, blah, blah. He decided to impress his daughter with his WKD OVROAD SKLLZ BRAH, and hooned off along a local farm track right at the bottom of a hill, that is acting as a sump for all the rainwater (it has apparently rained a bit recently, who knew?) This amazingly sensible plan was given added panache by the fact that the Landy was loaded up with a spare gearbox and a load of other assorted tat, some of it a bit heavy.
Mr Super Skills promptly got stuck in a very boggy and rutty bit of the track. It then started to bucket down, to add to the fun. Much wheel spinning, mud flinging and getting all steamed up later, my fiend finally calmed down, remembered his training and GTFO using low revs, high gear and much slooooooownesss. His daughter preserved her sang froid throughout the adventure, but she is used to her daddy being a bit of a knob.
At one point before applying the Staff Solution to his self inflicted problem my friend convinced himself that one of the freewheeling hubs was stuck in the 2WD position and could be seen hitting it with a metal bar to free it.
He forgot to take a photo of the Landy when it was stuck, regrettably. Off to the jet wash afterwards and removed approx 14 metric st-tonnes of congealed mud from the wheel arches.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNybnRkj-MY
Mr Super Skills promptly got stuck in a very boggy and rutty bit of the track. It then started to bucket down, to add to the fun. Much wheel spinning, mud flinging and getting all steamed up later, my fiend finally calmed down, remembered his training and GTFO using low revs, high gear and much slooooooownesss. His daughter preserved her sang froid throughout the adventure, but she is used to her daddy being a bit of a knob.
At one point before applying the Staff Solution to his self inflicted problem my friend convinced himself that one of the freewheeling hubs was stuck in the 2WD position and could be seen hitting it with a metal bar to free it.
He forgot to take a photo of the Landy when it was stuck, regrettably. Off to the jet wash afterwards and removed approx 14 metric s
t-tonnes of congealed mud from the wheel arches.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNybnRkj-MY
Edited by anonymous-user on Thursday 20th February 17:29
ManOpener said:
A friend of mine (actually a friend in this case) did exactly the same in his work LWB Sprinter in the car park of a cinema. Pulled up about two feet from a concrete bollard, watched a film, hopped in afterwards and drove straight into it.
YELLOW CARD! Stories about your friend are not allowed in this thread. The only stories that are allowed are stories about your friend.Er....I am not sure that you have quite caught the drift of this thread.
In other news, my friend suspects, but isn't sure, that he has shagged the fuel pump on his Lancia by letting the tank run dry. The same friend had his Alfa 156 tarted up a bit to remove assorted London dings and scuffs. A bit of paint, a bit of polish. He collected it from the bodyshop, who had done a good job, and immediately scraped the bumper on his wall while parking up at home. Verdict on my friend: knob.
In other news, my friend suspects, but isn't sure, that he has shagged the fuel pump on his Lancia by letting the tank run dry. The same friend had his Alfa 156 tarted up a bit to remove assorted London dings and scuffs. A bit of paint, a bit of polish. He collected it from the bodyshop, who had done a good job, and immediately scraped the bumper on his wall while parking up at home. Verdict on my friend: knob.
GC8 said:
Justin Case said:
My friend has such a boring car that he has to chat about cars to imaginary friends on internet forums to keep his sanity.
My friend is friends with your friend on the internet!My friend always leaves any manual car in gear whenever he parks it in order to avoid such eventualities, but on one notable occasion he had been letting the engine cool at idle for some time after he had thrashed the yarmouth most egregiously, like the ignorant and mechanically unsympathetic yob that he is, and after he switched off he neglected to engage a gear, leaving the car on its handbrake alone on a slope. What happened shortly afterwards was entirely predictable.
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