So, I had a blast last night at Nell's party, it was ace. The whole night was a joyous event with interesting people.
I drank quite a bit and had some brilliant conversations with some people I'd never met before. We played 'What's in the rucksack?', which was quite funny and rather revealing, I got it totally wrong, spoke about naming inanimate objects and then discussed religion with a lovely chap until 6.30am. Got home and to bed at 7am, oppsy!
11am, a very nice chap turns up to remove the crap from our garden and assess the state of the garden...4 hours sleep, not happy. Hangover kicking in, yeah!
Finally get some energy and drive to work to clean up after the band in the studio. Come home to find my car struggling with gear changes...as you know, I had a gurgling and had been informed that my gearbox was becoming buggered and that my clutch was on it's way out...get to the Oxford ring road, hello can't get in to gear, finally manage it, with a mild patch of panic and carry on home, trying to hurry the traffic on as I go. Get to Cowley Road, stall, not happy...some bastard bus driver, decides he'll make gestures at me, yeah because I choose for my clutch to break...Cunt!
Phone the father, he suggests Mr Clutch, as I thought that was the problem and wa-hey - my gearbox has broken and is pissing gearbox oil out everywhere, I've left a trail of oil all the way from East Oxford to the Shire and back...not good! £1300 to fix it, can't be done till Thursday, I start to cry...general life, no money, no sleep, shit car = hysteria!. am not paying £1300 for a car only worth £1700. Call the AA, this heap of Fiat shit, isn't going anywhere on it's own!!!
Mr Clutch 'Simon' is a lovely bloke, he gives me a glass of water, I finally calm down, he continues to entertain me while I wait for the AA to show up and cart my car away to a farm in the south of Oxfordshire. Call Howardo, she comes and comforts me and makes me feel not so crap, (Mr Clutch 'Simon' will be getting a big thank you in the shape and taste of a lovely bottle of red wine, I hope he drinks?!).
Mr AA arrives, I give him the directions and contact details for the farm and the chap, Dave, who’s going to be receiving.
And Howardo and I head down the Cowley Road to carry on with our lives.
Have another chat with the father and he says that they'll run the granny-mobile to me tomorrow, when the whole family come to eat lunch...yeah, the granny-mobile is wicked! It's a Mazda 323, it's ancient from way back when, in the day of your!
Isn't she a beauty!!!
It's cream, has a lovely blue interior, a manual choke, only a radio no tape or cd player, 4 gears, no central locking, wind down windows and the all important factor of all, low mileage.
I remember being driven around by my grandparents in it as a kid, it was always kept in immaculate condition, you know in that way that only old people can do...and now it's going to be my temporary car...my only fear is that it may get wrecked on the Cowley Road by students and the like...bloody drunken fools. I hope they can show it some courtesy.
So here's to my car and its shit gearbox and also to the granny-mobile!