..well, actually this could be read as NO MG, or zero MG,( for a couple of weeks anyway). The ‘Bearmobile’ succumbed to a near-fatal timing belt problem. Driving along the A90 during rush hour, the engine started tae squeal. This got louder and higher in pitch until only all the dogs in a 2 mile radius could hear it. Then it stopped…, the noise … and the engine, and any forward momentum.
I’d kinda hoped that it might just have been a particularly squawky seagull in the fuel system, and that it might’ve sorted itself. (Some Kryofuel 1 is more refined than others). The reality involved the alternator belt breaking, which then found its’ way inside a cover to cause the timing belt to skip, and the harmonious co-ordinated synchronicity of pistons and valves to turn to mangled metally mush.
So, as of last Thursday, ma wheels are stuck in the workshop. The nextest hard part will be finding the funds tae pay the repair bill. Getting this sanctioned by Mrs.P will not be easy. She has a strange idea that it’d be cheaper to buy a new car. My, and therefore the more logical, reasoning is that for the same money (as the repair bill) it’d be difficult to buy a used car, let alone a new one. Having scrimped, or avoided paying to have the car serviced regularly over the last couple of years, it was only a matter of time before something broke. 3 years maintenance bills or 1 repair bill. Ouch.
The near fatality I mentioned earlier is that, in spite of it’s superherobear association, Mrs.P would really like any excuse to get rid of the Bearmobile, and get something ‘sensible’. Boring, I say, do I really want mundane motoring? I’d have to be sociable, and cultivate friends to fill the 2 unused seats in the back…. Sociable, it’s just so not the bear way, is it? I have to remind the beautiful one that, buying a motorbike2 is also an option – and one which brings great smugness. So she might wish to consider carefully, the comfort and space that the MG currently offers.
Speaking of pain, I went to the dentist last week, where a nice Polish lady examined and gave a running commentary on the state of my ivories…”present, present, retained root, missing, missing, filling,..” Sounded like a roll call at Stalag Luft 111 after the Great Escape. I say nice but, as I’ve not yet gone for the now planned extractions, and in my head all dentists bear uncanny resemblances to Lawrence Olivier in Marathon Man, the worst is surely yet to come.
Like the similar unnecessary evils, potted hough and golf, the ancestral and spiritual home of Gummy Bearsis Scotland, due to it’s very sweet tooth. I’d say teeth but, like that well known Mexican lady Juanita – this country only has solitary gnashers.
Oh the payin’, my piggy bank’s emptied, Mrs P’s piggy bank was eaten last month (mmm, yum), and the tax-avoiding offshore accounts all belong to other folk. This could be a long month.
Bad things usually come in 3’s so ah wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs.P catches a virus (it’s OK I’m using gloves to type this on the computer) or the price of cheese goes up next week. Anyhow, I just hope that I can still grin and.. well, just having enough teeth to grin will be good.
1 Kryofuel: a synthetic enviro-friendly fuel blend of Ice & Seagull. (wasps optional) – used to power the Bearmobile.
2 Keep your eyes open, I might do a bikey blog some time
Paul R Bear 