April 19th, 2008

Random Violin

Tyring me out

My car owner's manual is presented in a posh faux leather folder and looks quite classy. It's always interesting to browse, too, as a source of esoteric knowledge - when am I likely to be towing a trailer in snow? - and the basic stuff is covered as well, for example how to release the bonnet catch. Riiight.
There's a reason for my browsing this morning, though; I need to put air in the tyres and had to check the correct pressure. Yep, I've had this car 18 months and not yet checked the tyres. It's time to reveal my shameful secret (drumroll please!) - I hate doing it. It scares me. I'm sitting here now in a sweat just thinking about doing it. I've even been going through a mental list of friends and acquaintances, trying to think of someone I might persuade to do it for me, but I've drawn a blank. I'm trying to psych myself up for it, and am sitting here blogging about it in the hope that revealing my secret will make me realise just how pathetic it is.
Isn't that ridiculous? I used to work for Racing Car News for godsake, and I'm having palpitations over checking tyre pressure.
  • Current Music
    here in my car I feel safest of all, I can lock all my doors, it's the only way
Random Violin

2nd post

Shaking my head over this - browsing a Peter Brock Limited Edition Signature Plaque advertised for sale on Deals Direct, and it features Genuine Facsimile Signature. Oxymoron, wot?
See it here
  • Current Music
    I can only receive, I can listen to you, it keeps me stable for days in cars