Well, bugger me if I'm not walking past the same spot today and there is a different car in the same spot, sporting the flag and exactly the same pair of "no thappy john" stickers.
Here we have the original crappy car.
And here with have the modernised clone.
No, the old bucket has not been traded in - it was sitting in the driveway behind me.
Is this one person with two cars, or is it a result of the dreaded merging of two tilty-headed compassion junkies?
I'm so glad I don't have a job that involves door knocking. Knocking on this door might reveal something nasty, like Margot Kingston. Eugh.
1 comment:
Looks like there's some crazy space-time continuum shit going on. I'd stay the hell away if I was you!
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