My fondest recollection of my times in the Hutt Valley was the night I was in the back seat of a 1956 Customline. We got pulled by the MOT (as it was back then) and they decided we needed looking at by the 'real' police; can't recall why. The cops arrived and one of them opened the back door, which I was leaning against, feeling ultra queezy. The door sprang open I leaned out and barfed all over the cop's feet.
Brill.
Ha! That's funny! My mate. when he was young and a HOBANS equivalent, threw up in the doorway of a local pizza est. Then some young thing came out, slipped and fell in it.'That's the girl for me!' he thought, and they will have their 20th wed ann soon! Ahh, aint love wonderful!
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Only a Rat can win a Rat Race!
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