There is no update, but I'm writing one anyway, because it's a blog, and I feel strangely compelled to add to it on a regular basis, even if I have nothing to write about apart from the most pointlessly mundane of trivial observations.
I have not yet begun to source parts for the R5, because snakebite (he who sold me the car) says he has some of the required bits in storage, so it'd make sense to take a look at those and see if they'll do the job before lashing out cash to buy them elsewhere
Well that's not too bad I suppose.
Service was £116, and whilst the R5 didn't get a completely clean bill of health, the financial damage to follow isn't going to require me to sell my arse down the docks to randy fishermen. (Assuming they'd want to access my arse in the first place, that is, it'd certainly be a new use for cod liver oil. (Does cod liver oil actually come from the livers of cod? Is it genuinely oily? If so, that's really yucky.))
STUFF THAT NEEDS DOING -
Front shock
So then, I bought this twenty year old Renault 5 GT Turbo which appears to be very nice. I don't mean nice like ice cream or a decent bottle of wine, I mean nice like having someone point a gun at you and pull the trigger, only for you to realise that the assailant has run out of ammo, who then keels over from a heart attack, and thus you're not dead after all. It's a scary kind of nice, whereby if you're still alive at the end of a little drive out in the country, you decide that maybe God migh
