He was late sixties maybe. Galway accent. Denim jacket. Beard. Kristofferson look. Bonnet open, Toyota, side of the road, hoping something might happen. He'd been there a while. Contemplating the engine, listening to the scream of the traffic on the bypass. I pulled in. Asked him the rhetorical: 'Everything ok?' 'The car just stopped.' 'Stopped?'… Continue reading Nice warm chips.
Vectra going well. Yellow engine light still on and the cigarette lighter gone. Great craic if you're into dead phones. Said I'd change the fuse. Big plan, DIY plan. Looked up the biblical Youtube and a Polish lad had a video where you find the fusebox. It was in the boot, on the left, behind… Continue reading The fuse.
Ah, sure lookit. These lads had it sorted. Big operators. Big into the car business. Known for doin yokes up. They wanted the remains on the Insignia. It was imperative they got it. Said they'd give €500. The loved Insignias. Had five or six of them in the forecourt out the back of their mother's… Continue reading Insignia still not scrapped.
There was big talk about this pole. Everyone kept on about the pole. The pole. The pole. I was driving down the road and the phone rang and this foreign lad said: 'We need to talk about the pole?' 'The pole?' 'The pole.' 'What pole?' 'You hit the pole.' 'What pole are you talking about?'… Continue reading The Pole.