6000th Page View!

 

6000 views is nothing in the great scheme of things, Hooniverse can probably fart more page views than that every single day. But the the fact that people have clicked onto my dusty little blog and found something of interest on six thousand seperate occasions means the world to me. Thanks for that.

It's time for me to plan for the future. This is my sixtieth post on Roadwork, I try to do at least a couple of posts every week, but it all takes time and, believe it or not, effort. One things sure; I'm not about to quit any time soon, I'll continue posting my claptrap until it becomes illegal to do so. What I would ask of you, though, is this: If you visit this site regularly, or if there's an article you particularly enjoy, please tell people about it. I love putting this stuff together, and the more people that read it the more effort I'm driven to put into it. If, however, you think it sucks, please get in touch and tell me why.

Meanwhile I can promise you, if you stick around, er.... more of the same old stuff, really. 

Driven #3:- SLK Rediscovered

Sports cars are everywhere. They are synonymous with the open road, being in touch with your surroundings, driving according to your instincts and not just your reactions. To drive a sports car is to be utterly in control, to have conquered the machine. The greatest sports cars enable every driving cliché to be lived, allowing you to attack every sinewy curve, clipping apexes to be set up perfectly for the next bend in the road.

It takes effort, though - to get the most out of driving a sports car can be hard work. But does it really have to be? 

Get your hands on one of the original SLKs and you can relax your way to a good time. 

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Air Traffic: The Flying Salesman

 
It was a Mercedes-Benz B180 Diesel, nicely equipped with black leather, parking sensors and removable front seats. It was, though, slightly less plush than her old car, another B180 Diesel. And considerably less interesting than another vehicle she has access to.

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Another Highway Robbery.

I have a horrible feeling I may get a brown envelope through my letterbox, and an invitation to pay sixty pounds for a further three points to be enbossed into my driving license. Yes, I'm a naughty boy and a terrible, evil criminal.

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Hate driving. Love driving.

I hate driving. And I love driving. Unfortunately, these days, there is an unfortunate ratio between the good miles and the bad miles.

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