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I Know You Got SoulBY: Alessandro Saetta Vinci | Category: Entertainment | Submitted: 2010-05-24 16:53:48
I'm a regular person. I've got a regular bank account with a regular amount of money in it. I'm not rich. If I were a rich person I'd probably be in Beverly Hills now, licking salt, sniffing lime and pouring tequila on the bare back of a naked Russian model. But I'm not, so I'm sitting here at my desk and writing stuff. See, the thing is this that like all regular people whenever I buy a new car I trade in the old one. I came home about a week ago with my brand new car after having left the old one to the dealership. And boy, was she sad. I know what you're thinking: another petrolhead maniac who thinks cars live and die and breathe just like us. And you're probably right. Partly. Now bear with me ok? Google this: Rolls Royce Phantom front. Now look at the pictures and tell me if that doesn't look like a very sophisticated, boring and presumptuous old bloke from Cheshire. With spectacles on. I first believed that some machines have souls when I was about 16. Scooters tuning was really big at that time and me my mates, instead of just relying on mechanics, started working on our bikes. We, personally, took care of every aspect. Colour, engine, lightness and so on. I remember one time we were testing our latest creation to see if it was any good and it wasn't. The set-up of the carburettor and of the transmission were completely wrong, and the bike made a noise as if it was really suffering. Have you ever paid attention to the noise that old people make when they tiredly sit on their sofas? That's the sound our bike made. Only slightly more profound and hoarse. Which was weird because it was actually brand new. I mean, it wasn't, we bought it used from a guy we knew and it already was many years old, but every bit of it had been changed. Think of it as a very old person, take the oldest grandpa you can think of and give it the face of Brad Pitt, the body of Tyson Beckford, Lewis Hamilton energy, Usain Bolt speed and Mike Tyson strenght. Not a grandpa anymore. As soon as we'd got it right and it was finally riding properly, the noise it made was more like a scream. The kind of scream you utter when you're very excited. My girlfriend's been very upset recently because her bike won't work. She's taken it to two or three mechanics and none of them found out what's wrong. The more she's angry and calls her bike a "useless waste of junk" and the more problems it develops. At first it was the ignition, now the battery as well, then the fuel distribution. I tried talking to her, I tried to convince her to stop treating it bad and see what happens, but she says I'm bonkers. I've never had a single problem with any of the means of transport I've ever owned or loved. Whereas I've had billion of troubles with cars I wasn't really fond of. It's not a piece of metal. It's not an amount of things built in a shed. It's a bike. It's a car. It has a body. It has a brain, the ecu. It has a skeleton, the chassis. It has a heart, the engine. What about the soul? Where is the soul in a car? Well...where is it in a human being? That's right. No one knows. But you know, as a certainty, there is one. Next time your car won't start, try and stop reapeting "just work! You piece of metal s**t!" and see what happens. Article Source: http://www.writearticles.org/ About Author / Additional Info: Comments on this article: (0 comments so far)
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