OK it’s not really all his fault but I’m disenchanted with my Punto. My Punto, which incidentally means penis in Hungarian has become embroiled in a series of unfortunate incidents of late, most of them mechanical. First the brakes, then the tyres, then the exhaust fell off, then I did the CT (French mot) which it only failed on a few things, so I was quite happy with her, and then when I heard Bizzle’s lyrics I started gettin all psyched.
Woe betide me on the highway A63 revisited yesterday, freaken boiling radiator water all up in my face. Not only did I have to turn around and limp home defeated, but the guys in the office were deprived of a day of hanging out with me. I’m sure everyone at both Fiat and Ferrari would hold their hands up and apologize to the gimps in the office. Luckily, I managed to get online back home and set up a remote post to help guide them through their day.
I thought about having a splash in CapB yesterday afternoon but couldn’t be arsed, so I went round Pepe’s instead who off to Hawaii today for 4 months.
Meanwhile it’s a long and rocky road of reconciliation required to somehow salvage something between me and my penis.