Choose MINI. Choose a body colour. Choose a roof colour. Choose a dealership. Choose a f**king big car loan. Choose A/C, CD Boost, superchargers and electrical window openers. Choose good mileage, low maintenance, and gap insurance. Choose fixed interest repayments. Choose a set of wheels. Choose your intake. Choose MINIwear and matching fabrics. Choose DIY mods and wondering where the f**k you are on a Sunday morning after your Nav system goes down. Choose sitting in that seat watching the scenery whiz by, spirits rising with the revs, stuffing cold air into your intercooler. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got MINI?
Washing you MINI. Stage one, preparation. For this you will need one driveway which you will not leave. Soothing music. Hose, thirty feet of. Water tap, for rinsing cold. Wash, Mothers Trigger, one large bottle of. WD-40, can, one of. Roll of paper towel, wash mitt, chamois. Windex, leather treatment, wheel dressing. One hour. One bucket for water, one for soap and one for dirty rags. One terrycloth towel and one bottle of beer. Which I've already procured from my father. Who is, in his own vicarious and socially acceptable way also a MINI addict. And now I'm ready. All I need is one final drive to soothe the pain while the STP engine treatment takes effect.
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