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.
It was a high-end, quality automobile. It also smelled like wee inside.
Look like a mob boss or Sir Lordypants Alan Sweeter, despite the fact you work part time at Greggs.
Another snapshot of automotive misery I owned, though none that warrant the effort of an individual post.
French and quirky, like a Parisian Furby.
Nothing to report. All went well.
Blog gets commended at awards, which is nice, because none of the cars he ever owned were commendable.
It’s like a rally car, but not as expensive. Or as fast.