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United Kingdom
Posts to:
United Kingdom


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Item Ended
Item condition:
04 Dec, 2011 22:00:27 GMT
Winning bid:
9 bids ]
May not post to United States - Read item description or contact seller for postage options. | See details
Item location:
Central, United Kingdom


eBay item number:
Seller assumes all responsibility for this listing.

Item specifics

Used: An item that has been previously used. See the seller’s listing for full details and description of ... Read moreabout the condition
Manufacturer: Bankrupt
Colour: Burberry Check with a hint of desperation Model: --
Engine Size: -- Type: Custom Show-off
Power: 10 Mileage: 1
Seats: -- Doors: No. No doors. They were stolen. Sorry.
MOT Expiry: -- Model Year: --
Drive Side: Right-hand drive Reg. Date: --
Road Tax: -- Exterior: Barbed wire doorhandles, Rubber gear stick, Square steering wheel, Clown doors
Previous Owners: -- V5 Document: --
Transmission: Manual Manufacturer's Warranty: --
Fuel: No. There's no fuel in it. You'll have to bring your own, I'm afraid. In-Car Audio: Glovebox has the leftovers of many wraps... could be made into maybe a gramme?
Service History: -- Interior/Comfort Options: Driver's seat commode, Five ashtrays, Electrically defeated seats, Some roof...
Safety Features: There is always a distinctive, alarming smell just before the engine explodes

Relisted due to a timewaster who thought he would get parole before the last auction ended.

Please make sure that all giros, personal injury claims, insurance scams, and loans from Cash Converters will be cleared
in time for you to pay.
I'm tired of people messing me about and behaving in exactly the same way that I do with other people.

Don’t buy this car if you are shy and don’t like attention! 
Mostly from the police. I'm always being stopped by them. But, don’t worry, that’s only because I’m known to the drug squad
- but they actually love the car! After they strip it apart to search it, they always take the time to put it all back together again.
Often in the right order.

Low start price
To reflect the fact that I’m going to get some mates to bid the price up, if that’s okay with you.

No reserve!
ou bid, you buy! Don’t buy it just to come and complain that there’s something that looks like a bloodstain in the boot ...
or that one of the tyres has been put on inside-out...
or that my bull mastiff is savaging your leg while my heavily pregnant
wife gives you the
come-on (she never). I’m sick of timewasters! You either want a threesome or you don't!


This is a total ONE-OFF show car. Just like the other one like this that I built last year.
There will NEVER be another. Until next year (watch out for that, coming soon!)


It has also been featured in many magazines, including -  Custom Lunatic, Total Imbecile,
Fast Wazzock, and the Metropolitan Police Crime Newsletter!



The car is fitted with a heavily modified, highly-tuned Flymo lawnmower engine with Spog-Thrust twin turbos, Shaft-
Wang fuel-injection and a Twang-Spag dump valve. It can also be adjusted to cut grass at three different levels.

(I think I must’ve had it set to cut at too short a length when I drove the entire length of the local golf course
because I was chased by loads of angry golfers! Don’t they know that grass grows back? And that muddy
tyre tracks eventually grow over?! Idiots.)

Also has a new stained steel exhaust with a lunchtime guarantee, so no worries until teatime.



Uprated quick-shift gearbox - Note: it does stick a bit in first gear but I always solved this by setting off in second.
Note: sticks in second. But this is solved by free-wheeling downhill until up-to-speed and then going straight into third.
Note: there is no third. I don’t know where it’s gone, absolutely no idea, so I usually quick-shift straight up to fourth.
Note: fourth crunches quite badly.

On the plus side - fifth gear is brilliant! Of all the gears this one is easily the best. But it does sometimes seize up
over 40mph and wrench you around into an uncontrollable spin. And it usually does this, for some reason, when
passing infant schools during home time. (But I will likely get this problem sorted before the auction ends.)


Slammed! Lowered sports suspension for the Euro-look that makes it seem like your suspension is completely knackered. Or
that you’re driving around with a car full of sumo wrestlers. Can be a problem over speed bumps so I tend to use the pavement.

I also have the original springs and shocks if you want to return it to its normal ride height - but this does tend to tip the car flat
onto its side when going around corners, hence now having door handles that are flush with the body… as are the wing mirrors.
This only happens when turning right. Or left. Or driving straight. (I'll probably get it fixed by the end of the auction, if I’ve got time.)

Ay-mazing 18" ‘Bobby Dazzlers’. Repainted in smoked salmon (not pink!) Unique! I’ve never seen them on another car… other
than the car they were taken off. People really do stop and stare. And point. They cost around £2000 with tyres for the original
owner but my mate got for me them from a car boot sale (while the owner was at the toilet). All tyres are good apart from the
front and the
rears. If I get time, I’ll get some good-as-new second hand part-worn remoulded retread tyres for the lucky winner.


Sorry, NO brakes. NONE WHATSOEVER. Quite unusual, I know, but I went for that American hot rod 'no-brakes look'
that is so popular in the States at the moment where it’s all the rage to stop your car by driving it full-belt into whatever’s
in front of you - a brick wall, another car, a petrol tanker, a large spike, a blind man and his dog on a zebra crossing,
your dad on the drive screaming at you ‘NO!’

If you’re not hardcore enough to live with this, look elsewhere!


One-off bodykit from Thailand made from discarded chewing gum softened by local lady-boys, which is then
molded into shape and left to harden. It's actually stronger than carbon fibre and comes in four fruit flavours.

Unique Burberry check paint job with a metallic candy flip in Nauseating Gold. There is a boot spoiler... which
is a human bloodstain that does, I admit, totally spoil the boot.

The doors are also a one-off design that swing open unexpectedly when going around corners - hence the added
safety harness on the driver's seat and the unfortunate stains on the passenger's (RIP Latisha).

There is a light crack in the bodywork that starts at the right-hand corner of the front bumper and then travels all
the way around the car, over the roof, across the bonnet and... ends at the right-hand corner of the front bumper.

(It’s hardly noticeable really - as you can see from the pictures I‘ve chosen that don’t show it - but I thought
I’d point it out so you can’t accuse me of being both a liar and highly selective with the photographs.)


Privacy glass. This is partiularly useful when driving past the Jobcentre on your way to work when you've
used the excuse of your grandma's funeral as a reason to skip signing on.

There is a top-notch sound system in the car that cost £3,000 new and is now worth at least £50. I have the
photocopied paperwork of my mate’s brother's receipts for his sound system to prove. Not sure what it proves,
but it proves something. Probably that my mate's brother bought his sound system and didn't nick it. Which is
great, because we then nicked it from him, so it's good to have the receipts.


Especially traffic police... speed cameras... laughing girls... and two guys in a Ford Mondeo
at the bottom of our road that I think are from the Benefit Fraud Office.



Mostly because they show far too much of it, to be honest. But I couldn’t switch off the camera flash.
I do have some darker photos of the car which show it in a much better light - hardly any at all - taken
at midnight in the car park of an out-of-town JJB Sports when I was waiting to score.



Whether or not it’s worth risking your life driving it is another matter! Ha ha. Only joking. 
It’s easily worth risking your life to drive it.

(And even that can drag on...)

The car has only covered around 3000 miles in the last three years
Due to it only being used for car shows, court appearances, drive-by lootings, and local drug buys.
Always garaged, mainly at the police impound (and you know how well the police look after their cars).

There are what look like the footprints of stiletto shoes on the interior roof lining. I put this down to
the fact that the car was previously owned by Russian gangster with a variety of very colourful 'girlfriends'.

Car is advertised elsewhere and I reserve the right to stop the auction for the following reasons -

(1) I get arrested for non-payment of child support.
(2) My bail is revoked
(3) Both myself and the car explode in a fireball as I try to outrun the police at 3am one Saturday night/ Sunday morning whilst high on methamphetamine.

For the lucky winner I’ll throw in the following for free -
A wheel clamp (damaged)
A steering wheel lock (damaged)
A fire extinguisher (fire damaged)
Furry dice (singed)
A new ignition barrel
A parking ticket (unpaid)
A bottle of bloodstain remover (half used)
A custard cream biscuit (nibbled)


As you might expect, the car is on the HPI register - but only as a Category-A unrepairable total loss write off.
I blame myself. Mostly because there was no one else to blame - even though I looked around. It was 2am, the streets
were deserted, and I shouldn't really have had a girl called Chelsea sat in my lap while I was driving.

I skidded on ice, rolled the car over several times and then slid half-a-mile on the roof down a steep cobbled hill.
Fortunately there was a canal at the bottom to provide a soft landing. Unfortunately it was frozen over, so we slid
upside down on the ice and on the roof of the car for another half-mile. We finally stopped when I crashed into 
twenty-five swans whose legs were frozen into the ice. 

The car was written off because of the high estimated cost of the repaint… and the potential bill for retrieving swan
feathers from the engine.

So I repaired it myself to the highest standard, trust me. I can assure you. No word of a lie. Believe me.

Mind you, I wasn't the only one that fell foul of the driving conditions that winter...


See, that girl Chelsea, she really gets around...



On 02-Dec-11 at 22:06:19 GMT, seller added the following information:

Currently 1339 watchers. All questions are answered below or : View all questions and answers 

Lots of questions about the history so I'll post a one-reply-fits-all here:

History shows that the car is so unreliable it was once used in a push-by shooting.

I don't need a part-exhange as I recently bought the car below because it is
more eco-friendly as it runs on bio-fuel made from vegetable fat.


Unfortunately I made the mistake on running it on full-fat chip oil
and it now looks like this...


Which wouldn't be a problem apart from the fact that it keeps swerving into McDonald's...




Item image


On 03-Dec-11 at 22:19:13 GMT, seller added the following information:

Amnesty International - working to protect human rights worldwide -

SHELTER, the housing and homelessness charity -



TED HUGHES - - Poetry, Poems, Bios & More -



On 04-Dec-11 at 03:55:32 GMT, seller added the following information:


On 04-Dec-11 at 04:51:38 GMT, seller added the following information:


..................................We miss you, Bill.................................................As Bill might say: just cos you're in Japan, don't mean we can't see you!


.................God is not great................................................................Truly, truly terrifying - go scare yourself

On 04-Dec-11 at 07:34:14 GMT, seller added the following information:

The non-existent car has now been written off.


I hit a squirrel and came off worse. Sorry.
(The squirrel's okay, by the way.)

On 04-Dec-11 at 07:58:07 GMT, seller added the following information:

Derek and Clive discussing the finer points of talking to strangers.

On 04-Dec-11 at 09:24:03 GMT, seller added the following information:










Just about the best thing you could ever hear coming out of guitars, drums and a microphone, the MC5 Kicking Out the Jams...

On 04-Dec-11 at 09:59:50 GMT, seller added the following information:




What now for people who still don’t acknowledge that the sun shines out of their behinds?

Where to begin? As the character of Captain Willard in Apocalypse Now says, ‘The bullshit piled up so quickly in Vietnam you needed wings to stay above it.’

With the tsunami of defensive and evasive bullshit on tabloid behaviour coming out of the recent Commons Select Committee, we had to upgrade those lowly wings to jetpacks. Not only did we have to lift above the rising pool of effluence emitted by those called to testify (that is, when they could be bothered to remember to bullshit us), but we had to try and outrun it as well. It didn’t just have depth, it had lateral spread. We needed sandbags to keep it from the doors.

Well, with the current Leveson Enquiry underway, there has been a pleasing blow-back for those who previously spouted their BS. And now, happily, we’re not the only ones needing a tide breaker. Because with the mounting evidence of the enquiry, a different kind of flood has broken.

So tabloid editors and hacks from over the years have been doing plenty of sandbagging recently too. And finally, after years of us thinking that the Murdochs and Brooks and Coulson were exactly what we thought they were and exactly what they appeared to be, it has now been irrevocably proved to be so. And so the tide of toxins laps even at their doors. Albeit doors that are hung on the kind of houses you can only buy with savage amounts of betrayal money.

But betrayal of what or whom? When Brooks left Appleton Hall County Grammar School as a young woman with thoughts of entering the Fourth Estate, she may have had plans to become a journalist and even had greater ambitions to become an editor; but it’s unlikely she would have been aiming to become the nationally loathed and shamed editor of tabloids that had exhibited some of the worse degenerations of ethics and journalistic code. What sane person would have that as an ambition? And how could you have phrased it to your careers advisor.

Only if Brooks left school with the desire not to wade waist deep through human excrement could we say that she has betrayed herself by doing so. And if she didn’t then we can only applaud her… resolve? Achievement?

And only if Brooks’s parents had had hopes that their daughter would not become the kind of person who could lay a consoling arm across the shoulders of two mothers whose children had been murdered - Sara Payne and Sally Dowler - while at the same time using the work of journalists who’d hacked the mothers’ phones… only then could we entertain the idea that Brooks may have betrayed her own parents’ expectations.

Hopefully their granddaughter, that is the daughter that Brooks is now pregnant with, will grow up in a country where the degenerate excesses of the staff employed on her watch have been expunged to the point where Brooks’s own daughter will never have to live though or be on the receiving end of behaviour of the depths inflicted on other people by her own mother. Albeit a protection for the child bought at the expense of said behaviour. (Even the precious gift of irony here seems near defeat…)

This is the defining thing about people who behave badly toward others: they are lacking in two needed but interconnected elements: imagination and empathy. Imagination is needed on some level, any level - actually, the ground level, because it is the footings of empathy (I feel; others feel). And the resultant empathy is needed to make that crucial leap between ourselves and others. The jumping spark that starts the engine, that ignites the light.

But if you lack the particular imaginative gene for that kind of connection then you might find it hard to see that your own children (even those yet unborn) and the children of others are more than less the same. Or at least deserving of equal rights. Even when they’re grown. And if you don’t see that than you will end up thinking that those other people - those Other People - are different. They don’t feel the same. They don’t feel at all.

Did Rupert Murdoch betray his own high journalistic standards in order to lower himself to preside over publications that sanctioned such behaviour? Not that we can see. He earned the nicknamed the Dirty Digger as far back as the early Seventies after he bought The Sun in 1969 and the New of the World in ‘68. So you could say he very quickly found his level and, to give him his due, stuck with it.

And, given that, you can see how we would really, really struggle to make a good case that James Murdoch has betrayed his father’s expectations that he might do better. It follows that he didn’t expect his son to do better because Dad thought that what he was doing was good enough. Murdoch junior might not wield a digger with quite as big a shovel as the old man’s but it appears to be just as caked in dirt. Daddy must be proud. Havard Business School less so.

And what standards Kelvin MacKenzie thought he was honouring when as editor of The Sun he traduced the dead of Hillsborough and then went on to even more shamefully lie to their relatives when he said he was sorry (after he was ordered to apologise and duly obeyed), we can only guess. I’d guess it was the standards founded by daddy bear Rupert two decades before.

Did any of these people, from Rupert Murdoch down (and it’s debatable how shallow the drop) to the photographers spitting at a young actresses to get her to react or, for the same reason, calling any woman a whore; or the never-more-appositely-named hacks who broke into the phone of a murdered child or lied their way into hospitals or invaded funerals; or the editors who knew about it and used it and even sanctioned it and then even lied in apology to the relatives of the dead they had libelled… did any of them picture their lives turning out this way, or that they would one day in the future behave like this without blushing?

Rebekah Brooks and Andy Coulson’s nadir may be having to bare the identification of themselves as liars and their description as ‘the scum of journalism’, and of Brooks as ‘criminal-in-chief’, by that upstanding rodent-like specimen, former News of the World deputy features editor, Paul McMullen, during his Leveson testimony. Never have pots and kettles called so black. And yet never so accurately. Venom doesn’t always cloud vision.

It’s a grimly fascinating spectacle to find out exactly what rats do when there is no accessible way off the sinking ship - and what they do is this: they employ the same fidelity and loyalty and morality and generosity and empathy that they did when they ran as a pack… and they do this by raping each other and killing each other and then feeding off the ones left dead.

As Husker Du once sang, ‘Feed the rats to the cats and then the cats to the rats and we’ll get the cat skins for nothing.’

And where do you stand in all this, dear reader? Still buying The Sun? Still handing over your thirty pee? Really.

Say the guy who lived next door was like a human embodiment of the Sun newspaper and whenever you knocked on his door, he opened it wide with a cheery smile and even cheerier ’Wotcha, mate!’ And then proceeded to gave you updates on sport, celebrity news, lots local gossip and (wait for it) on some days he’d even flash you a piccy of a topless young woman from round the corner. And for all this he only charged you 30p. Would you knock on his door and pay him?

Maybe you would. Good guy, nice chap, bit of a laugh, quite saucy but no real harm. God love him. Bless.

But what if you came home one day and found him with his arm though your neighbour’s letterbox as he rummaged around for their mail to get information on them he could sell to you? Or worse, you found him with his arm through your letterbox trying to steal from you in order to sell it to them? Then you found out that the only reason he could tell you details about the murder of your other neighbour’s child was because he’d had his arm through their door too. And if he couldn’t steal the information, he’d just make it up anyway to get you to give him your money.

Would you still be knocking on his door the next day with your 30p in hand.

I’ve actually overheard grown human beings with brains and everything, moaning about the behaviour of the News of the World whilst flicking through a copy of The Sun. Of course, at that point I produced from out of a black canvas bag I was carrying a large black metal shovel and hit them viciously in the face. The shovel handle shuddered so hard my elbows cracked. Snot-like explosions of blood and brain violently spat and popped out from behind the shovel from the sudden pressure change in their wet and opened heads. The shovel clang could be heard right down the street. It was so funny, I can’t even tell you. I really laughed. I even made money from writing about it and selling pictures of it.

size=4>Because, you see, these people, they were Other People. People not like me. They didn’t have any feelings. So I felt no shame at hurting them.

No shame at all.

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