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Suzuki Baleno GSR


Jim Bell

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Being a fan of japanish warm hatches throughout the ages, my interest pants were pricked with a WANT BONE when Garethj advertised his Suzuki Ballerino GSR for sale.

 

Sadly, it was out of my price range.

 

Hapilly nobody else wanted it.

 

Sadly it was then advertised on ebay.

 

Hapilly I got drunk and entertained myself by bidding against Loserone.

 

Sadly, I won the auction.

 

Happily, the reserve wasnt met.

 

Sadly, Gareth said I could buy it anyway.

 

Happily, I found I couldnt really afford it after all.

 

Sadly, Loserone offered to half it with me.

 

Happily, a three way deal was done.

 

Sadly, I couldnt go and collect it due to unexpected circumstances.

 

Happily, Bucketeer is a legend and offered to do all the legwork.

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Bucketeer set off from Misnk or wherever the fuck location he woke up in more than ten thousand miles away at a most ungodly hour. Being a man of unpeckable taste and outlook, he was in good spirits and driving a Volvo that usually* starts. He set off for Gareths, which is about 1000 miles away as the cow files.

 

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If it was winter, it would have been dark by the time Bucketeer made it up to Nyacassel upon Toon, but it was the height of sticky summer so it was still light and we could view the three door in all of its anonymous glory. .

 

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Loserone and Scaryoldcortina arrived to have a look round it and Scary poked at the breaks in a knowing way.

 

After a look round it, we proved that you CAN get four grown men in a small three door hatchback, but you probably shouldnt.

 

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Whats it like?

 

 

Well, it feels like you would expect a 1990s designed small Japanese car to feel. But with a bigger engine. It pootles around very sedately and quietly when asked to. When you poke the little pedal it roars a bit and the front lifts as the world rushes past. Theres a bit of torque steer if you cane it and its easy enough to slide it if throw it round.

 

Its pretty much exactly what youd expect.

 

Theres a bit of a clonk from the front, which gets promoted to a bang over speedbumps. The ignition switch is bit hit and miss. Cant really pick any other "faults". A very short list for such a cheap and entertaining car!

 

 

Plans are for me and co-owner Loserone to do a bit of autotesting in it.

 

Seems very well suited to the purpose.

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I like how the steering wheel doesn't even have a logo. It's almost as if Suzuki went to a car parts shop and picked up a generic steering wheel with airbag.

It's just occured to me, this is one of those cars you get in insurance adverts that are just "generic car" without being attributable to any particular manufacturer.
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Well bought, the seats look comfortable as funk.

 

 

They are by design for reasonably sized people.  I'm a bit on the LONG AND FAT side so the moulded intagrated head rest just pokes in bottom of my neck and the seat belt peg jabs deeply into my hip.

 

GOD DAMN YOU, ALL THE PIES!

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I received a missive in the post regarding an adventure. Two gentle men from the North required a descreet conduit, and I was their man. My heart quivered beneath my silken robe.

At this same moment, my faithfull canine companion bounded in like an excited cloud of black candyfloss to present me with more thrilling news via the medium of dribble.

 

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She had managed to bury her first bone. What I champion I thought. Almost like a real dog.

 

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These thoughts were soon placed on a handy nearby shelf for later perusal as more urgent, strident, pulsating and throbbing matters lay ahead.

A delivery.

Facts were scarce.

Intel patchy.

I'd be going in without the full picture; alone, vulnerable, naked, quivering.

I wouldn't call myself a hero but it was a name I was willing to shrug onto my broad, sinuous, tanned shoulders if required.

 

The first leg of my odyssey involved a foray into the heaving bosum of one of our country's technological marvels. The superfast, hi-tech, self-aware, mega motorway of the future - Mister25.

 

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Mr25 and I danced a slow, heavy, quivering dance. Often close to glorious release but seemingly forever thwarted.

After some passage of time the primary destination was achieved, and beneath a dark, forboding sky full of menace and intrigue, and with a firm but passionless kiss, I said goodbye to GuardKitteh as he watched over my carriage.

 

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With a light, delicate, artist's touch I (incorrectly) began to finger South Shields into my Satellite Navigation device. My silver Japanese companion quivered in anticipation.

 

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Whilst South Korea was tempting, I decided to head for a town built around a new castle. This town was to be many miles up a tough, relentless, stretch of quivering blacktop. My heaving bosom tingled as I slid the gossamer seatbelt across, and I inserted it's cold steel buckle firmly but respectfully into a hole that felt almost designed to fit it. Two became one in a perfect dance of safety-first ecstasy.

 

My Asian companion requested a 'selfie'. Apparently young adults up and down the breadth of The United Britain are indulging in this new, debauched and quite literally lethal pastime. I watched on, open mouthed, moist lipped. If I'm honest my bits were tingling a bit, rumbling and dancing beneath their silken why-fronted master.

 

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The shop in the background of shot summed up my early feeling towards Baleno San. He was definitely a box of delights I was looking forward to rummaging through.

With a firm, fair, but slightly calloused and occasionally naughty hand.

 

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On my way northwards, like a silver bull, relentless.

The air hot, the electicity palpable.

I quivered. Again and again.

 

But that's for another time x

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