Here it is!
An old Reliant Scimitar, the classic, cracking-good sports estate with the Ford V6 from the makers of the 3 wheeled Robin.
Sort of like a Pigeon keeper suddenly breeding a hunting Hawk.
Anyway, I'm in a bad mood; drove a difficult day, pulled a blinder, and relaxing on the way home, I got caught out and went into the back of a hesitant Jaguar X-Type at a junction.
Thing is my car was badly damaged but there wasn't a mark on the Jag.
So considering that all 'modern' cars are designed to give, why didn't the Jag?
Slick, if it was arranged.
But who can be bothered?
The higher they build their walls, the taller I get.
Or just have another beer and suck it up. Shit happens.
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