The only car I have ever owned that someone lost. No, really.
A car I bought, transformed and enjoyed. No fire, death or failure at all. Weird.
Got it for free. Took it apart. Ran out of talent.
It was a moss-covered Mercedes. It’s a play on words, geddit?
It was a high-end, quality automobile. It also smelled like wee inside.
Not a JPS. Not particularly solid. Didn’t actually drift Clearways (a corner at Brands Hatch, for the uninitiated).
Another snapshot of automotive misery I owned, though none that warrant the effort of an individual post.
Beige fighter. Beige against the machine. Road beige, and other names Ben Morley threw at it.
Black, brief, boring.
Big, wafty and suffered from a severe dislike of retaining its petrol.