Writing the last post made me remember an amazing run of bad luck I've had with vehicles in my life.
First car I had was a green Ford Fiesta called Godzooki bought for £250 by my Father. No front bumper, something I noticed only half way home...it died after a month.
My Father then gave me his Rover 216s (called Bertha) in pale metallic blue, complete with rust, bullet holes (I shit you not!) and a dodgy starter motor...by the time the engine blew up, I no longer had working heaters/fans, had a hole you could put your fist in on the driver side frame (started as a bullethole), the starter motor didn't start more often than it did start therefore I was an expert in bump-starting it on my own, the windscreen had been kicked in by a b/f & then replaced by said b/f and it had been in three crashes where none had actually been my fault! (twice I'd been stationary, the other someone pulled out from a side road)...I think it committed car-suicide...
I then bought a black Vauxhall Nova (Black Beauty number 1) with lovely orange interior. I loved that little car. First car I'd actually bought. I felt very grown up.
All went well with the car until the day I left the lights on parked up at the train station...wouldn't start when I got back. I walked the 5 miles home. My neighbour then took me back to disconnect the battery and charge it for me. Two nights later we returned with the battery (couldn't get back the following day) only to notice something odd about the car...it had been broken into. All the steering casing had been broken, and a pair of nail scissors were jammed in the now broken starter motor...but there was a funny side...they'd popped the bonnet...I like to imagine their faces on discovering no battery LOL!
A few months later my Nova went for it's MOT...it failed. It failed badly. I believe the term is "Cut and Shut". Oh and I never had got the starter motor fixed (don't even ask how I'd expected it to pass when you needed scissors to start it!)
Needless to say I didn't own a car again for about 10 years...was insured on other cars, but refused to own one myself...I did manage to blow the head gaskets on my friend's car in the meantime tho.
About six/seven years ago was the next time I owned a car...technically it was my husband's but due to the fact he had two bans showing on his licence he struggled to get insurance, whereas Little Miss Clean Licence could...so once again I found myself owning a car. This one faired well for quite some time. It had been my husband's Mother's car...then his ex-wife's car...and now mine...so at least we'd known where it had been. Several years of driving it around flew by, then one night, en route to site at night, something went wrong, the car basically seized...and then died...
Then we bought our last car...the one before the current Jag...we bought a Renault Grand Espace which, if you've never been in one, is fecking HUGE! Seated seven, could probably seat a lot more if you tried. It was known as the Cleggbus. Although very "mumsy" it was very useful, went well, and hell, I could still beat boy racers at TLGP (Traffic Light Grand Prix).
We'd only had it 18 months when this turned into a rocket...literally (turbo diesel). Of course, it was my hubbie and child who got to be rescued by three fire engines...not me...oh no...no effing firemen EVER rescue me with broken cars!!!
So there you have it...a number of reasons why I should NEVER EVER be allowed to own a car...now I think I might post up some old blogs of mine relating to motorbikes, as my luck is not just restricted to four wheels...
BTW I still have a clean licence...never had any points...amazing huh?
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