<<Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in one pretty and well preserved piece...>>
...but to cross over into that nether-world reeking of unburnt fuel, heated rubber and aldrenaline. Knuckles still white, lips and cheeks windburn and cherry red, the echos of rushing wind and internal combustion still ringing in your ears.
Yes I'm going kinda nuts waiting for parts.
Mike