The Bloke and the Car

Perhaps the most important thing in a blokes life is his car. Except, of course, for his ute. And the Massey Fergusson. Oh, and the chainsaw. A crate of Red is probably up there somewhere as well, as is the Motorbike and the Red-Band gumboots.
ANYWAY, up there near the top is the trusty car, and nothing pains a bloke more than seeing some other bloke in a crap car. Sure, he could be putting a bit of spade work in by driving the handbrake to the shops so she can get a few personals like some window cleaner and a new pot, but still, it's a minor personal tragedy for any Bloke to see another bloke in a crap car. Because they know it's the thin end of the wedge.

Imitation Blokes don't MIND driving crap cars. Sometimes they even say they prefer their racey little runabout because it has better cornering, handling and pickup than a heavy, thirsty battlecruiser.

But ask yourself one question:
When you miss the gate by four feet because you're busy cranking up the volume on "Pink Floyd's Loudest Hits", and instead clip that stop sign, slide along the footpath for 20 metres, run down the neighbour's neighbour's front hedge (and cat - woopsy!), plow through their frontage and end up halfway through the passenger side of their pristine, newly-washed Honda Accord... Are you going to want to be in a 'nippy' vehicle with the tensile strength of damp cardboard, or are you going to want to be behind the wheel of a Holden Kingswood - made of Metal - Real Metal that rusts without letting light through - metal that only dents after several blows of a sledgehammer?

Just ask yourself. If you get the wrong answer, ask again. Keep it up till you get it right. Then think about what a Bloke's Car Hell is like...

A Bloke's Idea of Car Hell

What a Blokes Car Should be like