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Albert Ross

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Today, Mr Conelrad and I went down to see Dugong, hanging out at his parents' place, beeing fed the most delicious delicacies by his mother,

who apparently still recognises him. We didn't. But we got Stollen, which alone made the trip worthwhile.


Here is a first hand account of the event.


He does look a bit worse for wear, but nothing two kilos of Isopon can't fix. I bet the female variety will be all over him once this shit is through.

Apparently, one of the nurses has already voiced mating intent. A stroppy ginger with green eyes and freckles.


What has happened (background story we made up on the way home, because the real one requires severe pimping):


Junior Dugong was barreling along with that motherless 7-litre Ford Galaxie of his, on a B-road, at 130 goddamn miles per hour, after a healthy dose of

Seagram's Seven Crown (which makes better drivers out of us all!).

There was this bloody right-hander. Now, everyone knows, that 7-litre Ford Galaxies can go straight, and then turn left. Add to this, that there was a damp spot, and those Goodyear Blue Streak Speedway Specials just couldn't take no more.


So off he went, crossing a ditch fully airborne, mowing down three barbed wire fences, barrel rolling seventeen times through a pig stall, a chicken stable, two cows, a goddamn Brontosaurus, flattening a Peugeot 305 knob van in the process, and finally coming to a smoldering and smoking halt, rubber side up, in a fucking pond, right rear wheel still spinning, steam from the exhaust, you get the picture.


Arriving rescue services had that peculiar expression on their faces, you know, that men have, when they are just about to see an ugly dead body.

They found Dugong hanging inside that wreck upside down, suspended from his seatbelts, fumbling on his I pad.


The following conversation ensued:


Constable: Are you drunk? I can smell a whiff of Seagram's Seven Crown (which makes better drivers out of us all!) on your breath!

Dugong: Of course I'm plastered, officer. What do you think I am? A goddamn stuntman?


Disclaimer: Above account of the event is purely fictional. Any resemblance to people alive or dead is entirely unintentional, but hardly avoidable.

Besides, I wish it to be true.

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Further goodwill from this IP address. Also "Mad Credos" for your thoroughness in car reviewing. I've never read an account of unexpected inversion survivability in Practical Classics and have always thought this something of an oversight.


Heal thyself post haste.

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Faaaark Dude, that's got to smart a bit!!


That's what I love about Dugong. Discovering an out of date yoghurt sends him into a sweary rant the like of which would make Prince Philip proud, but scraping half his face off in a car crash and nada, nothing, not even a mild curse...Let it out fella ;)


Seriously, get well soon, take care of yourself and keep your chin up (unless it hurts)

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Aye, wishing you a swift recovery here too.  I suddenly realised that I had posted the picture of the fit* ginger nurse without actually wishing you well on here, and a speedy recovery, despite having done so over on Faceache - and after much deliberation, I have decided not to call it "Facebook" as every other time I mention it on here I always call it Faceache, so no special pussyfoot-around-the-fucking-obvious treatment from me!


That said, I do hope you usually sleep on your right side - it took me over a week back in 1997 to be able to sleep on my left side (i.e. my usual side) after a hit-and-run collision with me hitting a wall with my (helmeted) head hard enough to give me 5 hours of memory loss.  Get well soon, Jon.

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