ohhh
This takes me way back. They say charity begins at home well my car experience began with my dad's firstcar.
A morris 'maina' KVC xxxx. This was a car my mum hated it with a paasion. it could emit a bellow of smoke that could change the weather forecast in an instant.
... leak oil like it was on diarrhoea. The doors used to hav a mind of their on.on some days only one car door would work and some days you had to get in thro the window.
The damned thing had to b pushed most morning jus to start it.
One time it jus switched off and refused to start jus before a police roadblock. You can imagine the amusement on the police officers when my dad had to squeeze himself thro the window when the doors refused to open.My mum swore neva to ride in that thing again. Good thing though I got to learn so much abt cars frm the mechanics who had turned our front yard to a mini garage.
Despite its shortcomings my dad used to brag about that car like it was made from the moon. That used to set off a mini world war III between him n my mum. Eventually the morris threw in the towel and my mum turned the shell to a chicken shed so fast to kill off any ideas of resurrecting it. My dad finally sold it off to a scrap metal dealer.We still have a good a laugh in our family when we remember that morris.
Just make sure you do your homework well before you part with your cash.

...If you havent found anything worth dying for...then you aint fit to live
......If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart....