You know it’s a sign of things to come when you get bitter and sweet, love and hate, anguish and euphoria all in the space of a few hours. Let me tell you of a story. A story of two brave young warriors….
A long long time ago (at least 4 days) in a town far far away (well, at home in Fleet) two brave warriors sat on the sofa surfing Ebay and drinking homebrew. Warrior Gale stumbled absent mindedly across the holy grail;
“Hark” he hailed chieften Matt “I have found the holy grail for which we have been seeking” cried Sir Gale, gesticulating wildly to his laptop
“The lost pictures of Megan Fox’s audition for TransformAss” cried Sir Lindsalot
“no, no, the other Grail”
“A 1988 Volvo 740 GLE in beige with an intermittent speedometer fault”?
“Indeed sire”
So with that the chariot was bought on the spot, with less than a minute to spare, the bid was made and the treasure won at a princely £209. Sucata stage one complete…. with just one caveat…
“Where does this marvel currently reside” they questioned.
“Yorkshire” came the reply
“Ahh….”
Only but a few days later our valiant warriors were galloping up the M1 in Sir Gale’s stead. I say they galloped but a horse would have been much faster. These two mensa candidates hadn’t considered that the M25 and M1 might be a tad busy on a Friday afternoon. Of course it was a car park and their 3 hours voyage quickly gave birth to an additional two hours and a massive Burger King. Not less than 5 hours later the warrior kings found themselves rolling into Wakefield with 200 Large in their pockets and an appetite for a bargain.
</end ridiculous historical type commentary>
I can’t even begin to begin to descibe the feeling that overcame us when we laid eyes upon the magnificent beast within who’s leather lined belly we were going to float our way the 1200 miles to Croatia. His manly haunches rising proudly over his solid 15 inch almost undamaged alloys. His flawless lines almost completely unblemished by any hint of a curve or styling. The gloriously rich, deep beige paintwork offering no suggestion of the rust that lay underneath. Mark’s speech stuttered as he tripped over his tongue…..
“wooooooooaaaaaaawww” he drooled.
“It’s like the only car that’s ever been designed by a man with nothing but a ruler”
We didn’t have to fight too hard with the owner, it was clear that men of our stature were not to be messed with and after two hours of intimidation and hard battering we walked away having paid just £210 coz he didn’t have any change.
Being the only one of us insured (which I initially thought was a beautiful blessing for me) I was bestowed with his powerful 2.3L engine sitting menacingly close to my legs. She started first time with the roar of a sound that can only be compared to a geriatric lion with a stubbed toe. Geriatric or not, it’s still a lion and it’s still our wagon and we were in love.
Driving out of Wakefield it was a revelation to see the women stop and stare, the mortals move aside to let me through and the lights all change to green in fear. The Punisher was in town and he meant business. I as I bobbed my foot on the gas pedal, the 2.3L of pure rage under the bonnet screamed to be let out and the chariot rocked like a fat chick on a water bed.
Heading down the M1, slamming through all four of the four and a half gears with all the ease of a kid stirring a bowl of cookie dough I realised just how good our purchase was. The black, full leather interior was spotless (it was also roofless as part of the roof lining had disappeared) and even the light on the heated seats worked (the seats didn’t actually get hot but it made you feel as if they would do any minute). OK, so the speedo sometimes didn’t work and the 5th gear didn’t either, but those things are minor irritations. Minor compared to what happened next…
If you’ve come from Matt Lindsay’s blog at ACarTooFar then WELCOME. We will be posting the first part of the saga over the next few days so stay tuned.
For now though… PLEASE GO AND DONATE:
OK, so even though we’ve not had an update for a while, we have some very good news….
…but I’m not going to tell you what it is yet, so hold on tight (or buy me a beer) and you’ll hear all about it.
There was only one reason that the internet was built and that was to host information about Arnie. For that reason we raise protein shake to the creators of this piece of magic.
There aren’t many decisions in life with this degree of gravity. There are only a handful of truly defining waypoints in any man’s life. I’m not talking about the little off hand decision like marriage, kids, houses. No, I’m talking about the “biggies”. Big decisions in any man’s life such as:
Whether to rep-out the last of five sets dead lifting a PB.
What flavour Protein Powder to spend the last of your pay check on.
Whether the Small or Extra Small polo shirt will show off your guns better.
Yet even these decisions pale in comparison to the choice of Sucata wagon. The stead that will carry us victorious across the finish line, bathed in glory.
So, after much searching, we have the first contender.
Comments please…
Well the new brand new and spangly What Would Arnie Do (WWAD) blog is up and online and looking all sparkly. Everyone dance around for spangly new online pretty blog.
NOW GET DOWN THE GODDAMN GYM