Carma out

And so it came to pass that the Goldie Lookin' Car was tweaked into life a few more times as shift working with no wheels is damned nigh impossible. And the man of government service once more poured two gallons of water into it's cooling system, more leaky than an official doccument marked "confidential" and set off for home in the early evening.

And lo, going around a roundabout on the industrial estate, the engine did expire and not start again. And the man of government service did sit, and sit, and sit, and sit waiting for the AA to get their arse into gear, and he was sore annoyed. And the Man who Can did arrive three hours late, take a quick look at the engine and saw that it was (not) good, "lo, see how the camchain is knackered, thy car shalt move no more under it's own steam, guvnor".

And the man of government service did frown, and mutter "bollocks".

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So that's it folks, for the GLC.
Not as much of a dog as Christine the Hellbound Honda, but in it's own special way a hound. Unexplained engine cutouts, cooling hassles abounded, and Christine's cab was a nicer place to be. But leggier than Christine, which was always useful, even if it's looks were less "faded showgirl" than "faded docker's 16 stone missus"; and a decent responsive engine for distance, when it wasn't cutting out at the lights. Rest in pieces.

Now, has anybody got a spare car I can borrow?