I don't know about people, but they certainly eat into your bank account. After paying the local Renault dealer £70 last week to not fix my car, I'm taking it to another garage tomorrow to see what they can do. Hopefully they can sort it so it has a bit more power than an arthritic snail and doesn't churn out fumes like a 007 gadget car's smokescreen. And this is after all of Keith's attempts to fix it on the cheap for me. Old cars: can't live with them, can't drive them off a cliff for the insurance money and live to tell the tale.
Soundtrack: I Get Along, The Libertines
That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate, Mission Of Burma