BREAKING GOOD!
My local breaker’s yard in Kent was a treasure trove of parts and information – and also a hive of friendly banter and mickey-taking.
Johnny who ran the place (no second name was ever mentioned, and he liked to keep it that way) had a toilet seat hanging over the very cluttered counter and when a young, green kid came in looking for bits for his or her bike, would dare to ask about the relevance of the loo seat he’d simply say: “A bog only has to deal with one arsehole at a time…” Invariably the phone would ring, he’d hold his hand up for you to be quiet and he’d deal with another fool.
