Fellow sufferers,
I knew it would happen. My boyfriend has caught my deadly disease. Last
night he bought and brought home a $200 '69 MGB GT with a cracked head.
He even gave up his precious Toyota truck spot in the garage for it. He
works for the Health Department of the County of San Diego and his cubicle
is right next to the cubicle of the guy who does abandoned car abatement.
During a muffled phone conversation in the next cubicle, his ears pricked
up at the letters M and G and he was all over the guy like a cheap suit.
It turned out that some white trash, er, rednecks, er, persons of no
discernible color or taste, in El Cajon were being cited for having dead
cars in their yard and an MG was in imminent danger of going to the
wreckers. Jim was Johnny-on-the-spot and rescued it and now _I_ have to
get it running.
Does anyone have a good smog head they can sell me? I don't need the valve
train, just the head.
Now all I have to do is teach him to salivate at the words "Jaguar,"
"Morris," "Austin Healey," etc.
Denise Thorpe
thorpe@kegs.saic.com
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