Sun Visors & Hot Coffee

This van is the bane of my life at the minute. Every month something goes wrong. Something breaks or falls off. Something rattles loose and bounces down the motorway or rolls past me when I stop at the lights. But I still love though! This month it was pretty good to me at MOT time, only costing brake pads and a brake calliper, a reset and properly fitted handbrake cable, a rear number plate, 3 bulbs, brake juice and a windscreen wiper.

On the way to Kerry’s yesterday I noticed my sun visor that’s mounted on the door pillars was rattling quite violently. I didn’t put much thought into it until my pal Lee pointed out its fitted wrong. It was too level, causing the wind to shake it like it was trying to get the last bit of ketchup out the bottle! So today I set about putting it right. What a fucking job that turned out to be! A three minute job took 3 hours. Turned out the knob head that fitted it cross threaded all of the adjusting bolts and only two fixing screws actually made it into the van structure, the rest just sitting in the plastic trim.

Two trips to the motor factors round the corner, four cut knuckles, 1347 swear words and three hours later it was refitted and looking good once again.
Now my brakes have been sorted, and my hand brake works proper, I can sleep easy at night without worrying about whether I’ll wake up in the same place I went to sleep in. And that when I pop into the shop my van will remain in the same parking space I left it in and I’ll not have to play hunt the fucking van every time I come out! I’ve a nice dent in the back door now where over night my van rolled back across the way there and into a tree stump. I suppose I should be grateful really as the night before I was on a cliff top... “Here lies Calamity Shane. A nice chap, good with his hands. Too tight to fix his vans handbrake. May he rest on the bottom of the Bristol Channel in peace.”
Yesterday was destined to be trouble from the start. I had a bad nights sleep and got up early as I was I excited to be seeing Kerry. I rose, got washed and dressed and made a coffee in my Thermos mug. I leaned through and set it down on the twin front seat whilst I grabbed the window vac and proceeded to suck the gallons of body moisture my cheap Chinese diesel heater and sucked from my body and threw on the windows. Having done the rear I climbed between the seats to do the front and as I lent on the seat my cup tipped over and boiling hot sachet prepped cappuccino poured gracefully over the back of my hand. Yelping and screaming like cheap firework, I tried to remove myself from the entrapment of the seats but alas, I was stuck fast. A-fucking-gain. The steaming hot froth did a grand job of boiling my skin and being froth just sat there, sizzling away.
I also discovered that I’d melted the insole to one of my trainers, by trying to dry them in front of my dehydrating cheap Chinese diesel heater. I should’ve known better really. When I slid my foot into my trainer I absolutely shit myself! My toes touched the frazzled curled up insole and I kicked my shoe off as hard as I could fearing I’d squashed a giant bird eating spider that’d slept in there. My shoe flew up in the air, across the small space I call home and knocked my freshly opened can of coke over which fizzed and frothed across the kitchen worktop and floor and all over my other trainer...
Anyway I’m off now as I have left over Chinese to eat but I’ll leave you with this little nugget:
To know that we know what we know, and to know that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge.

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