Archive for the ‘The Motor’ Category

Hello, dear blog!

Hello. Long time no see! What you been up to?

Here’s a brief synopsis of my life of late. Drinking, City winning cups, working, drinking, working more, drinking more, gigs (encapsulating drinking), coming second at quizzes, making plans, ruining plans by buying a second car…

Which is why I’m blogging. The Mini now has a companion! Being the sensible adult I am, Red Dwarf developed an(other) issue, so I bought a (hopefully) more reliable companion for it. Despite having nowhere to store the Mini. I’ve not fixed the issue, and have an MOT (and tax, insurance) due in August. Whoops.

If you remember when I bought Red Dwarf, almost two years ago, I couldn’t even drive, so this is hardly a surprise. Whims I am accustomed to.

So, the plan is that Red Dwarf will go into some form of hibernation, and I will drive the new thing (an 05-plate VW Golf) while carrying out essential maintenance. And looking for a flat in Aberdeen, rather than being in Kemnay. Yes, I’m made of money, apparently.

Motor II

Motor II

It’s all a bit exciting, innit?

I’ve already been on the AmD Milltek website, sadly they have nothing for the 1.6 FSI. Kents.

Now, this thing where I have two cars which need tax/MOT/insurance in August… Whoops.

All this amid the background of my work being taken over, and a (hopefully) increased workload. Woo!

This week, I did this…

Which, apart from the date of the AMOC show being missed out, is pretty cool. On that note… AMOC SHOW! SUNDAY JULY 4th! BE THERE OR BE… well, not.

Box of… laxatives?

Life, as Forrest Gump once said, is like a box of chocolates. That being the case, owning a Mini can feel like somebody’s replaced your favourite strawberry cream with a joke shop laxative.

I’ve heard those mad enough to have kids talk of how the good moments outweigh the bad, and Mini ownership’s a wee bit like that; one minute it presents you with a lorryload of your favourite flavour of Angel Delight, the next you’re eating 9p Lidl beans on 10p reduced bread for the next month in order to pay for an engine overhaul, but it’s always worthwhile.

In my last blog I mentioned the tiny watch battery that was allegedly powering my electrics. Well, it is no more!

A big Bosch beast was duly purchased, and fitted. Fingers crossed, turn the key, and…

…it started, first time. That was easy! But what the hell’s that screeching?

Bonnet popped, turn the engine on again, and still with the screeching. Accompanied this time by a cry of “turn it off!” from my knowledgable and clearly-secretly-enjoying-himself father. Just before I asked why, I spotted the smoke coming from the area of the alternator. Mmm, laxative…

As it turned out though, taking off the belt cover next to the alternator solved both the smoking and the screeching issues, and they stayed away after the cover was reseated. I knew this badboy wouldn’t let me down!

So, with the Angel Delight en-route and the laxatives cancelled, it was time to move the car. Slam it in gear, and…

And…

And?

Here come the laxatives again. Despite the engine turning over beautifully, the power isn’t reaching the wheels. Clutch or gearbox at fault, methinks, and having read up online, I’m getting the WD40 out to try to free up what sounds like a seized arm. It blooming well better be, or laxatives and beans are my life now.

There’s nothing WD40 hasn’t fixed for me so far. Keep up this amazing track record, my Water Dispersing friend…

My amazing little friend

Oh dear…

So, the motor I bought last year has been pretty much neglected since I made the move into town, mostly because I still can’t drive the poor thing. Lessons have been booked though, so it’s only a matter of time (before it gets wrapped round a daffodil).

Given the exceptionally harsh winter, it wasn’t a great surprise to find the bad boy often won’t start, especially as it looked like this at one point:

Whoops.

So, I’ve now discovered why it struggles to start so bloody often. You may not know, but there are different types of car batteries, identified by a three digit code.The higher, the better. If you were to go to Helfrauds and ask for a Mini battery, they’d sell you a 038, which is the only one on their list for a Mini. This is recommended by BMC/Austin/Rover for an 848cc engine. I have a 1275cc. According to Rover, this should have a 051 battery. You can see where this is going, can’t you?

Well, no, actually. I don’t have a Type 038 in my car. Oh no, you’re way off the mark. I currently have a 015. Yes. 015. Dyslexic battery syndrome? To be on the safe side, I’ve ordered myself an even bigger battery than recommended, a 063.

It does seem, though, that this is becoming a bit of a project, which I didn’t intend it to become. I keep seeing shiny things on ScottishMini (link to the right) and thinking “that looks ace… I want!”. It also appears the snow on top of the car and lack of ventilation has led to condensation discolouring the dash. Which is merely an excuse to replace the thing. Oh dear..

Before that, though, I need to fit a cigarette lighter (to power/charge the iPhone), and I want a Saltire roof decal. Hello, credit card.

In music news…

Aberdeen people! Check out The Deportees! They are most excellent! They’ve only played two gigs so far, but I can honestly say I’ve never heard so much buzz about a local band so soon. I’ve had the fortune to be at both their gigs so far, and they have another lined up for Sunday, at Tunnels. Be there if you can!

Some of my favourite bands have been releasing albums lately, so check out BRMC’s “Beat The Devil’s Tattoo”, The Courteeners’ “Falcon” and Blood Red Shoes’ “Fire Like This”.

On that note, I’ll leave you with the video for BRS’ last single, “Light It Up”. It’s near-annoyingly catchy:

This fitba’ thing (and more)…

So, my vow of attending less football matches came to fruition, but not in the way I had hoped. After my post about cutting down, I had a pretty nasty illness that led to three weeks off work, and missing friendlies and competitive games. Admittedly, I’d already been to games at Turriff and Inverurie before that, but hey.

Fortunately the illness also came after the London trip… which was now so long agao I can barely remember the highlights. Hmm, let’s see…

On arrival at the super-shiny and super-huge T5, we cleverly bought four tickets for the Heathrow Express. Only to be presented with this when after the third had printed:

Ticket fail!

Technology fail. After seeking human intervention we were swiftly sorted out and able to continue on our merry way to our cheap hotel 5 minutes from Paddington Station. Handy, and also very cheap. Did the job though!

Nothing much exciting happened on the Friday night, so I’ll skip on to Saturday. When not much happened.

Dave joined our merry crew before we split into two groups – Edd, Dave and myself doing the cool stuff while Gary and his sister Gemma proceeded to get lost lots having no clue how London works. The cool stuff wasn’t particularly cool at all, to be fair. A quick trip down Carnaby Street, a wee wander round some of the touristy stuff, the highlight being walking into Hamleys. I was wearing my ultra-cool Dangermouse t-shirt, and was welcomed by the dude on the door with a cheery “‘ello Dangermouse, good to have you with us!”. Mega.

Ooh, ooh! We also managed to stumble upon the Dons pub, the Rob Roy, purely by chance thanks to my navigational skills. Win. I was, though, disappointed to find it dead both times we were in. Even at 10pm on a Saturday night. Boo.

What else happened? Not a whole lot. Sunday saw us head back towards central Lahndahn Town to partake in some food/shopping antics, and for me to Geek out over the musical heritage. Yes, I do have a photo of Wardour Street made famous by The Jam’s “A-Bomb on Wardour Street”. A photo of the street from the What’s The Story album cover was also taken. Oh yes.

Then there was the gig. That Wembley’s a bit impressive is it not?! We timed it perfectly to see Kasabian who were excellent. Oasis were… Oasis. I’ve seen them 13 times now so there were no surprises. It was certainly better than the Murrayfield shambles though. Getting back to Paddington was easier than anticipated as well. Bonus.

So, that was London. Then followed a few days of work before three weeks of bed. Not particularly nice, though I’d recommend it to anyone who needs to lose some weight.

Thankfully, I recovered in time to go on a three-day course, which I passed, and then have another busy weekend. One of the few football matches I’ve made it to away to Alloa, followed by comedy in Glasgow and thrills ‘n’ spills at Knockhill. Yay!

The football was poor, but the meal and comedy at Jongleurs were of acceptable standard. Dave also enjoyed, but his girlfriend, Gemma (not Gary’s sister!), didn’t seem too impressed. Too many wanking jokes I think. Stayed at their place on the Saturday night, then Dave and myself headed through to Knockhill where we were impressed to see local boy Gordon Shedden come second in the first BTCC race. Mon the Scots.

Keeping the theme going, Aberdeen’s very own Glynn Geddie manged to win his class and finish second overall in the Porsche Carrera Cup race that followed. Sadly the later races weren’t so successful with Sheds and another local boy, Jonny Adam, having various issues. Jonny’s fire extinguisher randomly deciding to cover him in foam was quite amusing though, even if it did put him out of race three.

More recently, on Saturday night no less, I went to the theatre. Yes! A theatre! I’m officially cultured! Edd and I made a late decision to see Quadrophenia, and despite being sat way up in “Ye Gads!” it was found to be thoroughly enjoyable. The band were rather good too, although the bass solo in My Generation completely failed to impress me. I’m just picky, though.

Hmm, this was a bit longer than intended, but I think that’s all the excitement for the moment. Apart from the motor, but we’ve already covered that. I’m currently trying to come up with a name for it. Ritchie is the best (read: only) suggestion so far, but I’m not keen.

Another busy weekend looms. No football for me, as I’m off to New Deer for the Wizard Festival, where I’ll see my good friends Proud Mary. Nice one.

Whoopsie

If you know me, you’ll likely know that I can’t drive. It’s not through any deliberate act, I took lessons then ran out of cash, went to uni and just never picked it up again.

I may well be forced to pick it up again, given I done bought this:

Whoops!

Return top