multitude

the internet's been down for the last three weeks. and counting.

there'd been so many things i wanted to write about and now that i'm on my brother's lappie i can't think of anything.

i'll just start with my bike.

(((:

---

it's a Triumph Street Triple R. i'm still running it in and haven't touched the throttle much but it's already a fucking dream. the best thing? it comes with a sportsbike engine without the equivalent insurance cost. i just refuelled last night and laughed my way to the cashier because it didn't even come up to thirty bucks.

i know i'd said i only wanted a Ducati and nothing else would come close, but i'd blinded myself to the fact that there are many other good bikes out there, and the Streetfighter is just too expensive and, let's face it, Dukes are rather overrated over here. it makes more financial sense to get a cheaper but no less exotic streetfighter category bike, pay less of everything, and still experience the joy.

i've two options: ride it stock or mod the crap out of it. if former, i'd probably leave it here. if latter, i'll definitely export it with me to enjoy the winding roads. lol! just the thought of that slaps a fucking grin on my face.

----

chinky and i spent the christmas grocery shopping and cooking at home. it was a fun experience and i thoroughly enjoyed it, burnt potatoes notwithstanding. the first day we cooked spaghetti and the mushrooms and tomatoes flooded the plate and drowned the noodles. the second day we had japanese curry rice and burned the potatoes. despite the looks both dinners turned out surprisingly delicious.

---

okay the internet's still going to be down till i figure out how to get it working, but i'll come back and post pics of the food.

whoa. i blogged about food?

fuck, i'm losing my balls.

backspace

okay i may have been a bit too harsh in that post about going euro.

the truth is i'm still turned on by a silvia. it's a proper street car that i can moderately modify and live with as an everyday drive. and there's absolutely no angle i can view it from and not find it sexy. it's pure four-wheel porn.

and then there's the skyline, which is a proper motherfucker too. i mean the r34, not the latest mammoth, girl-only transmission version which some (yim, girls) like and most (me) don't.

and there's the supra. it's another serious asskicker that initiates children into nightmares.

these cars have some attributes in common: they're all on my top ten jap tuner list, they can tear up the road without a fuss, and they can seriously ruin some days.

in short there're plenty of jap tuners i admire and can foresee myself driving in the mid-distant future.

but it's not going to happen here because i don't like the idea of paying a road fucking tax or certificate of fucking entitlement for something the government would already agree is my own yet won't be able to help squeezing me for, because that's the true meaning of a coe.

a low-tax street bike would suffice here, i can always enjoy my life elsewhere.

ultimate efficiency

peugeot. the drive of your life.

***

ring ring...

me: hello?

guy: good afternoon sir, this is xxxxxxx* from autofrance. the part that xxxxx** ordered for you has just arrived.

*, ** protected because i forgot their names

me: err. it's okay because the car's already been sold.

***

note: i ordered that part one fucking year ago. it's been so long that i've already forgotten what that part was.

i had a dream (and other doodlings in the books)

i had a dream just now. i was in australia (don't ask how i know) parking an m3 with chinky beside me. one of my rims hit the kerb and she whirled around to watch my reaction. i laughed it off.

me: lol! don't worry, it's not important.

chinky (surprised): lol!

*cut*

my rim struck the kerb again, only this time i'd just swapped new rims. she whirled around to watch my reaction again. i turned to look at her.

me: 我笑不出來 . . . !

chinky: LOL!

well, it'll be the best premonition of a future event.

---

but wait. an m3? yes.

i'm not going to get a silvia, skyline or supra in the future; i'm going euro. i still like them, i just think the time for me to own a jap tuner is over.

one thing remains though. it's not the current m3 i'm thinking of. it's the e46, because i like the looks and because it's a proper badass motherfucker.

---

a couple of weeks ago me and yim were out rounding when chinky texted me.

chinky: in the event of a zombie attack yim's van is the best cause it can run far and fast and no need to keep worrying about fuel.

me and yim loled for quite a while.

and that got me wondering if a defender can't do an equivalent or better job. it can withstand zombie collisions better and take the battle offroad. hmm. its survivability rating is definitely higher than a doblo's.

---

everybody rejoices when a baby is born on board a plane.

everybody's blind to the mom's 春光乍洩 throughout the event.

---

best proposal line: "would you be my offspring's incubator?"

god save the man who says that.

keyed audi

someone keyed my mom's audi right in our street last night. she just told me and i've seen the damage. it was quite extensive and probably requires a fair bit of paint repair. for the person responsible, i'd like to take this opportunity to.

laugh.

in.

your.

fucking.

face.

there are two reasons i can see that would have caused you to do such a thing:

1. your ego has been rather damaged because you've been raped by too many such cars and feel like a well-worn fuckdoll for cars such as those i drive. which means you drive a shitbox and/or you don't have the gonads for proper driving.

2. you can't afford a nice little euro. because the scratches were obviously inflicted by a sharp key, which aren't really common in good, proper cars anymore. which means you're rather financially challenged and the best you can do is that shitbox of yours.

in the first case you're a sad little fucktoy with no balls who has to scuttle around at night doing childish little things like scratch cars. in the second case you're a sad little scuttling fucktoy with no balls and no money. if you're both cases you're seriously fucked.

awww..

you know, i understand. it's your way of lashing out and releasing the pent-up anger at being raped by all those cars out there. i know because my main ride, depending on weather and mood, is a 40 year old car which wheezes at 45mph and i'm constantly cut by these people myself. but yeah i know, it can't possibly be the same because you can't possibly afford a classic and unlike you i'm not confined to a single car. you're more likely a chery or chana or something, constantly bullied by people who probably can't register what they've just raped. and can't be bothered in any case.

people like me, in other words.

lol! i mean awww..

we'll just drop the audi at a paint shop when we're free and it'll be good as new. hell, we might even change the colour, so thanks. on the other hand, you're still going to be a sad little fuck with no money and no balls, and will likely stay that way. i'm not kidding. if your only chance to get back at somebody's car is when its engine is off, you're really a pretty fucking sad person, and a fucking bad loser as well.

awww..

i've a parting shot for you.

up yours

oh well, cheer up. life is such.
for you at least.

one day i'll look back at this post and amuse myself again. lol!

rides of our grandfathers

a tiny shower and a slight breeze brought us to the old ford factory, where the surviving automobiles of the stone age gathered in the first celebration of the motoring heritage day.

in a bolshevik state, no less.

on display were the cars of our grandfathers. or the grandfathers of our cars. things our fathers were too young to drive and appreciate.

alfas. i like them in general.

it's a helmet.

for not getting out of the way, thou shalt looketh like a cock.

it works; the owner honked it for us.

yim's favourite. i don't share his sentiment though.

i laughed as i shot this car. it was so long i had to use maximum wide angle and stand at least five meters away.

this thing has crumple zones; those lights and horns crumple as they crash into you.

woo!

wee!

it's a fucking gondola.

flat exhaust.

funfact.

cat's paw exhaust.

oh my god. this is the ultimate merc. i love it.

original colour.

i'm starting to understand why my dad swears by mercs. too bad, though, that they don't build them like this anymore.

and this is the one i want to get most. the distinctive double-grilled triumph spitfire. i regret to say that this particular spitfire's owner must be a female and she must be very young.

because she'd splashed the whole car with crystals and totally destroyed the thing. and that black spot on the bonnet isn't dirt, it's a decal of a fly. good thing it's on a classic scheme then; not a lot of chances to go out and terrorise road users.

it was an inspiring trip. i don't mean i want to start collecting these things, but at least i had the chance to view these old tootmachines. anyway one morris is enough of a handful for now. i'm looking forward to the next motoring heritage day, if any. and of course the tuner exhibitions too. i swing both ways.

next, a silvia. not in the near future though.