If this was Shakespeare, and Lord knows I get close here sometimes especially when talking about farts - as in, "Blow wind, and crack thy cheeks" etc. - then I'd have to say I was "drunk with choler."
Frissons of rage dance in the air.
Grumble. I failed my NCT today. I say 'I' because even though technically it was the car that failed - aye, technically and then some - I'm taking it personally because my car is basically an extension of me. So if there's a malfunction with any of its mechanical parts that have even a tenuous bodily or sexual connotation, such as my head gasket, twin shock absorbers, injectors, nut covers, big end, back end, front end or big rude honky-horn, then I feel it grievously and get most upset.
I'm angrier than the even angrier secret twin of George from the Famous Five and Alf Stewart from Hymen Wye having a right set-to about the benefits of gender realignment.
So I am.
Get this though. The car is perfect in every way he says. I had it all assiduously prepared and cleaned and bulbs replaced and seatbelt clips visible and my (wheel) nuts exposed and any other little snidey, sneaky Fagin's-fingers-in-your-wallet slippery little shite of a thing they catch people on, all in order. I followed their check list. Make sure you have enough oil and water, intoned their document, although I'd swear they hope nobody will read it so then they can fail you for for having too many consonants in your surname or not liking Girls Aloud or some such. In any case, I knew there was oil aplenty in there because it was serviced recently and also, if the engine had seized up in a fit of blue smoke and collapsed on its haunches in a cloud of dust, I'd likely have spotted it.
But get this though. He couldn't complete the emissions part of the test because, wait for it, there was TOO MUCH oil in there. Apparently it's a very serious matter. Oh fail straight away. Re-test. Thirty more quid please. There was a scowl on me would shock the knickers off a nun, I tell you, and more than a few quips running through my head about letting loose a blast of me emissions.
Too little oil would have been fine, that would be somewhat negligent I grant you, but if anything too much oil only makes me guilty of CARING MORE THAN I SHOULD.
Permit me more Shakespeare, but I have loved not wisely but too well.
Too much oil. I ask you. Lookit, the only thing that can have too much oil is stirfrys, George W Bush and the spotty chessnerd one that got drunk on the rumour of a bottle of wine three parishes away and tried to wear the face offof me at the Debs.
I may well find someone and start a fight with them to work out this anger, or if I can't find anyone, I might just go into the bedroom, close the door quietly behind me and beat seven shades of shite out of myself.
Grump.
Relief as Stolen Religious Artefact Recovered
13 hours ago
16 moos and woofs:
Cars.
I'll never get it.
Well, now we know why you're a "McDanger". Drive with too much oil in your car engine and the crankshaft can froth up the oil, and froth doesn't lubricate your engine very well if at all: it can cause as much damage as driving with too little oil, in other words. Sometimes too much oil can build up pressure and blow your seals--either way you can possibly ruin your whole engine and that won't be cheap, or safe to drive.
Mechanic's daughter, btw.
Still laughing at the nun's knickers...
Stick to the Harley Davidson Radge, you've a lovely, big manly crotch on you when you sit astride your Harley. Mmmmm.
This is my point Susan, surely if there was a dangerously high level of oil, it would have affected the car before now? It was serviced about three months ago and no bothers. I can't help thinking the stupid NCT grease monkey can't read a dipstick, you'd think he would seeing as they're related and all. Gah! Big grumpy head on me.
Too much oil?
Oh, the temptation to talk about too much oil.
But, no, I'm being good tonight.
Moo Dog is a broad church Meadow. If you want to throw caution to the wind and share your experiences with over-ordering home heating Kerosene, nobody here will judge you.
....are you sure you hadn't farted in the car and he didn't want to tell you?
Nonsense. We're here to judge and scorn.
Well...hmmm...I didn't let one go that day Kath but there was probably one or two ghostfarts lurking in the upholstery alright, probably got disturbed with all the hoo-ha of the day. Maybe you have something there alright.
Radge, judge and scorn it is. I judge that you look hot on your Harley and pour scorn on anyone who suggests otherwise.
Now. Rev your engine there ah go on...
Meadow, talk about too much oil. I swear I'll keep my hands in plain view.
Got my car serviced last week and was told I needed new front tyres. I pulled into Tractamotors in Cavan and the right one blew. I was about to scoff it off as a mechanic trying to get more money out of me, but he actually saved me hassle, and possibly from a fatal case of death.
Not the NCT, but cars. Fuck 'em.
We call them Vehicle Inspections over here and my State finally did away with them. Why? Because politicians bent on saving the environment finally realized that nasty old pieces of junk cars would still stay on the highway if a mechanic's palm was greased with enough money.
I feel your pain. The only thing worse than those inspections was being female. You walked in the door just KNOWING the mechanics were betting on which woman they could convince had the wrong color oil in their vehicle.
Remember, you're a self professed hunk of mushy romantic. Concentrate on that. ;)
Those Shylock bastards. 30 quid, 30 bleedin bastard quid. These days taking 30 quid off someone is like a proper case of facerape. Which test centre? come on, let us take up our pitchforks and march towards them with bad bad intentions.........or pay for a re-test.
Wow never heard of too much oil and unless you put it in there, I'd be giving your mechanic a good round or two with a pound or two frankly! Your tests sound much more rigorous than ours, they basically check breaking speed, lights and electrics and make sure there's no rust. That's it. Be kind to yourself Terry, bash the shit out of your pillow instead.
Terence, you've been Snailed.
http://meadowchance.blogspot.com/2009/04/snailed-not-quite-as-good-as-desked.html
Too much oil? Could you not just have syphoned the surplus out, there and then, using a chaining of McDonalds' straws?
Or failing that, could you not have driven over a ramp in the carpark, gone up on two wheels ala Knight Rider (and to a lesser extent, Herbie), and allowed the excess fluid to tip out?
I mean, where is the thinking outside the box Terrence?
Maxi, I'm relieved Cavan's caring side looked after you. You'd be no craic at all if you were dead.
Hope, your politicians have more cop on than ours. Here, they actively encourage the finaigling of cash from citizens from jumped up Nazis in NCT centres, and pass it off as 'road safety' initiatives, like they do with the cops fining people for doing 65kmhr in a 60 zone on a three-lane motorway stretch.
Leeroy, tis Ballymun 1. If you're bringing pitchforks, make sure they're not rusty and have the requisite amount of oil. Bah.
Baino, I gave myself two open handed slaps across the cheeks like an angry woman to her wayward boyfriend. And that was all I swear.
Meadow? Snailed? Ye gods...
Flann I was a steap ahead of you there old boy. I turned yer man upside down and dipped him in the sump like a rich tea biccy and then stood there with a lit cigarette lighter asking him was it low enough now and had I passed, huh? huh? but I kinda got smothered under a blanket and taken away at that point and don't really know where the whole thing ended up to be honest. I don't think outside the box, for me, there is no box!
Sufferin' Jaysus... they failed my Dad because his indicator lights weren't orange enough. So he oranged them up a bit and went back and they tried to fail him because they were TOO orange. I shit you not.
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