My trip computer tells me I get 22ish day to day with lots of 30mph stuff. Fuel/distance travelled is actually 20mpg on 97 octane. Sneaky lying, beeping, telling me my brake pads are worn, resentful because I drive it round kent and it's like it's on the Jim Bowen "look what you could have won" tour, German auto mobile.
Bit like the wife really, why is everything in my life going German? I shall retreat to contemplate this and eat my navel fluff. Spiritual enlightenment beckons.
Bill
PS. It's the end of term and I'm feeling a little frazzled so just carry on as if I never said anything.
__________________
"Man Math" - The means by which a caring husband convinces his wife that a 4.2 A8 is in fact cheaper to run than a tiny Auto crap box
"Being in touch with your feminine side" - The ability to, in the 30 seconds following a major accident, obtain your wifes approval for replacing your big german car with another "because otherwise we'd be dead".
See also sulking for two years until she finally allows you to get another purely on the basis of your current one being the wrong colour.
|