Hahaha, I was returning to Mass. from Jacksonville a few years back (
Navy days) when I hit DC at about 11 pm. I watched the turnoff to 95
north slide by as I zoomed along in the left-most lane... I tried to get
back to it by taking the next exit , and the next, and the next... I
could actually see the road I wanted but could find no way to get to it!
Next thing I knew, I was going by the Pentagon with the gas gauge lying
inert...
My car's back home, where I'm convinced it belongs, after speaking with
every recommended Lord High Executioner/Peugeot Mechanic in the area.
I'm going to remove the head, check out the (probable) cracks, and
depending on the condition under the head and the condition of the used
engine at the boneyard, decide whether to do a head job or a motor swap.
I keep looking out the window and undressing my car with my eyes... It
sure would be easier if they weren't so desireable, I could dump them and
get something easier to live with... Wait a sec, was I talking about
Peugeots or women? After all, I've spent many nights thinking about
both...
Howard
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