My Car Mechanic Is Evil and Wants To Cause Me Harm

My car mechanic is trying to sabotage my life.

Yeah, I know. That sounds absolutely insane. It's up there on a par of saying things like 'My television is listening to my thoughts' or 'My cat is sexually abusing me'. It is possibly a comment that is not quite of the same standard of batshit craziness as something like 'I killed these puppies to show you just how much I love you' but it's close.

Anyway, my car had to have a service this week. Not entirely sure why, I mean apart from the fact it sounds like a lawnmower and you need to turn right to make it go in a straight line it is in perfect working order. But in it had to go. Well, that was the first step that mechanic took to trying to ruin my life. The roads out round my way are still covered in sheet ice from the latest unseasonable snow storm that has decided to throw itself my way. Getting it into the garage was an ordeal enough.

But it was when I got it back that the real issues began.

At first it was little things. Instead of having to turn the car right to go in a straight line, it has now been a bit overcompensated so I have to steer left a bit. That is hugely confusing. When I sort of stop paying attention driving, as we all do, it means I veer to the right as my arm goes back to the good old position I'm used to – angled right. That I can cope with. I can also cope with the fact that my car is now much, much quieter, meaning that I have to listen out to see if I'm having some quite high revs. The old cliché of the mechanic moving your seat just as you got it where you wanted it doesn't even apply here, as the guy who does my car is the same height as me.

No, the thing that really annoys me is that they changed my car clock. They didn't correct it, either. They completely fucked it. I used to know how the time according to my car clock – add on two hours and six minutes. Now, though, it is thoroughly confusing. I think I now have to take off 7 hours and thirty four minutes. I think.

Why in the hell would they change my clock like that? It confused the sweet Jesus out of me when I first realised. I nearly crashed my car trying to turn left to go in a straight line and check my watch. Each and every time I've driven since I have had a mild apoplexy looking at the time before realising its seven hours and thirty four minutes fast.

What is more confusing is the buttons that change the time from my dashboard are broken. How in the hell did they change it? What the fuck did they do to my car to change it? The questions keep coming, and frankly they are giving me a headache.

Ergo, my car mechanic is trying to sabotage my life.

The terrifying prospect – it has to go back in 4 months for an MOT. I'm thinking that I may get a cow back in return at this rate.

Secret Smokers In Snow Thaw Terror

Frosty the Snowman is not happy with your lung bashing ways

As Britain was once again awash with the White Powder of Certain Death, secret smokers awoke from their nicotine deprived sleep with a sense of imminent terror as they realised that simply covering a fag butt in snow is not a viable long term solution to hiding their habit.

The realisation came in the wake of an announcement from the Met Office that despite the fact that it appears all living memory had been replaced by a white, cold, traffic filled plateau of hell, within a week green would once more emerge into sight and people would once more remember how to laugh.

A jittery cold secret smoking man, who gave his name only as 'I have a whittled down icicle with your name on it if you say a word to my wife', told of the moment he realised that one day soon the great thaw would come and expose his dirty little secret.

“I was lying in bed, you see, having a gander at whatever posh speaking page 3 girl Sky Sports News had on that night, when all of a sudden she started nattering on about the football being re-scheduled for when the weather cleared up. It hadn't occurred to me that one day all this fake cocaine would disappear.”

“All I've been doing is dropping the butt on the floor and just swooshing some snow over it,” he continued, dropping his fag butt on the floor and just swooshing some snow over it, “but if the godforsaken day ever comes when the grounds once more return to the state where they can bear life my crimes will be exposed. I don't know what to do.”

“Do you know any variants on rain bringing voodoo spells?”

Meanwhile, Gordon Brown said that the latest round of snowy weather had brought the issue to the forefront of his next campaign manifesto.

“Along with halving the national debt by 2012 and never, ever raising taxes, we plan to introduce legislation that will make any snowflake caught on British soil subject to an £80 on the spot fine. Unless they left the clouds due to persecution, then they can go to the top of the homing list.”