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He was quite good - Maurice Ravel was so keen on his interpretation of Bolero, that he arranged for him to be able to perform it royalty free in perpetuity.Right, I'm off to get a jab. Nothing to do with Covid, it's one of those harmonica jabs. I'm convinced they're trying to turn me into Larry Adler:
(.... and if you remember him, well, you're being a tad mendacious about your age )
Buy a Japanese car. According to a forum member, they never need cleaning.
You are all shaming me into washing my car. If a neighbour doesnt say can you do mine next I will be disappointed.
In Ireland, they have the same L-plates as the UK, but, when you've passed, you are required to display N-plates (for 'New Driver') for the first two years, I think.I washed mine last April, it still has P plates on because if I take them off there are obvious clean patches!
Buy a Japanese car. According to a forum member, they never need cleaning.
We don't need this really. A badge on the back that reads Audi, BMW or Dacia is an internation symbol of being a dickhead.In Ireland, they have the same L-plates as the UK, but, when you've passed, you are required to display N-plates (for 'New Driver') for the first two years, I think.
Someone casually suggested that there should also be D-plates, to alert others to Dickhead Drivers.
Ha ha ha...
Then it was discovered that you actually buy D-plates in Wales, where they are the equivalent of the more mainstream L-plates - D signifying 'Dysgwr'.
It can be a wise move to circle your car before you get in, in case you have been subject to an assessment - and failed.
I have a Japanese car, that is 30 years old, has done 237000 miles but not a stone chip on it. Not all Japanese cars are built like a Nissan.This is correct as the paint chips off taking the dirt with it
It’s soft as shit
A badge on the back that reads BMW is an internation symbol of being a dickhead.
I can assure you my bias is very much conscious.Right then, now I get it.
When I owned a little white Citroen with a pink roof, all the other drivers were lovely to me.
Husband buys me a BMW convertible for my 60th birthday and now hardly anyone lets me out of a junction. And the beeping and peeping of horns is horrendous.
Not to mention the one finger salutes.
It's got so bad that I've resorted to going out in a blond wig, bright red lipstick and designer sunglasses. Nifty head scarf as an added accessory.
Roof of the car off whatever the weather.
I thought that if the male drivers of this world were still judging people on stereotypes (or, as I think it's called nowadays "unconscious bias"), then what the heck, let's roll with it.
Ah my turn this time.You are
Schrödinger's douchebag
What a strange April. We're getting glorious sunny days with a nasty tactical shiv made of ice lurking behind the sunshine.