We will remember them
Moderator: Moderators
cousin perhaps.
Involuntarius peristalsis rectum
"A true hotrodder wouldn't be content untill he had created a car so violent, so hairy, so totally sick that the very act of dropping the hammer would result in instant death. Anything less results in the need to go faster." - Tony DeFeo
<a href="http://www.mybannermaker.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img153.imageshack.us/img153/1862 ... cebsh4.jpg" alt='Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!'></a><br>
"A true hotrodder wouldn't be content untill he had created a car so violent, so hairy, so totally sick that the very act of dropping the hammer would result in instant death. Anything less results in the need to go faster." - Tony DeFeo
<a href="http://www.mybannermaker.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://img153.imageshack.us/img153/1862 ... cebsh4.jpg" alt='Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!'></a><br>
Sort of Great War and car related, when I lived in Sudbury Town near Wembley, we lived next door to a white haired old boy who served in the trenches in the First World War.
I was about ten years old I suppose when I used to see him pottering about, he struggled to walk and on some days he couldn't walk at all due to his legs swelling right up and becoming red and very sore.
It transpired that he'd been caught in the trenches right in the middle of a mustard gas attack.
Some days he used to clatter around in his garage and I often wondered what he used to do in there.
Anyway one day I leaned over the wall and said "what have you got in there Mister Watts?" and he replied that he had his car in there that he bought new before the Second World War and he liked to "keep it in good running order in case his legs got better".
I never thought much about it until about a year later the old boy died and the scrap man came around and drove away in an immaculate burgundy and cream Fiat Topolino....
I was about ten years old I suppose when I used to see him pottering about, he struggled to walk and on some days he couldn't walk at all due to his legs swelling right up and becoming red and very sore.
It transpired that he'd been caught in the trenches right in the middle of a mustard gas attack.
Some days he used to clatter around in his garage and I often wondered what he used to do in there.
Anyway one day I leaned over the wall and said "what have you got in there Mister Watts?" and he replied that he had his car in there that he bought new before the Second World War and he liked to "keep it in good running order in case his legs got better".
I never thought much about it until about a year later the old boy died and the scrap man came around and drove away in an immaculate burgundy and cream Fiat Topolino....