Today is only half over but I've already had a somewhat eventful Anzac Day. It all started with a coast trip. Being a public holiday Kyle and Yeatsie could come and Benji managed to dodge work as well. I woke up at about 6 to blood on my sheets, my finger that I sliced open at work must of hit something in the night and caused it to spew blood everywhere. I put those in the sink and washed them and totally forget about that time so I ended up racing to Benji's at about 6.45am.

As I didn't have credit I just sorta had to use the Chazza's power to wake/alert him that I was there, 6.55 rolled around and I was nearly ready to piss off home but the garage door opened so Benji joined the journey. Next stop was Yeatsie and he bailed due to a night out beforehand. I doublebacked and got Kyle then we were on our way.

We had a semi-traditional Maccas stop where Benji bought the new Ralph and then we continued down to the beach. The waves were small, definitely alot smaller then we were used to, but there was some (ie. not many) good ones to catch. Random babbling in the surf ensued before we decided to leave at about 9ish.

Here's where I went wrong, I put the doomed Fingal CD mix into the car and headed off towards Brisbane. The first sign of danger was the Gold Coast Highway closed off leaving me to do a detour to get to Smith Street. Surprisingly I think it was a tad bit shorter so I might look into this route more often. We were having a great time singing tunes and cruising up the M1 when the beast broke up with me. It just cut out, and being in the right hand lane, it was a disaster. I couldn't get it across so I just had to ditch it into the right hand shoulder.

Cursing and pissed off I popped the bonnet and checked out her insides utilising all my mechanical knowledge. The oil, water, power steering, radiator fluids were all full and there was plenty of fuel in her. I checked underneath and she was bleeding oil pretty badly though. Nevertheless I tried to restart her but to no avail, she was dead!

This led to the RACQ coming and calling a towie to tow us to the nearest service centre, which for us was 1 minute for Dreamworld's BP Service Station. We organised Danman to pick us up so to fill in all this time we started organise Benji's Ralph cards in order of hotness. There's a few moles in the deck, but other then that it's not that bad! The RACQ guy came and told us the chazza has lost compression in the engine which is a kick to the balls. After he left we tucked into some Nandos and then trudged back to the car to listen to some tunes and continue organising the deck.

After heading to Surfer's Paradise and then realising we weren't that far down the coast, Danman arrived and we piled in and headed home. The chazza is still at the Coomera service centre and probably will be till tomorrow or the next day until we figure out what to do with it.

On getting home I was in shitty spirits, stupid car breaking down sucks ass but my parents seem pretty keen on getting a new one ASAP so Dad and I went along the Magic Mile looking for new cars. I found a 2002 Lancer CE GLi that we are going to take for a test drive tomorrow. It's red and somewhat cool, but I'll be able to say more after I drive it I guess.

I guess that marks the era of the chazza, Rest in Peace beast

Well I'm off to a flyer of a start for the holidays, if it was any other time, I'd just call myself a beast slayer, because well, we all know the Chazza is a beast and it's four cylinder power is undisputed. It has carried us far and wide, many great journey's and experiences, including taking out a plover , chugging up the Gateway bound to Schoolies and well, a ship to rescue the drunken, but today a part of the beast died. Sorta.

It all started with Fingal, which I might add is in NSW (I'm blaming them, it's easier that way). I awoke nice and fresh at 5.30am ready to tackle a new beach with the usual crew of Benji, Kyle and Yeatsie. I had two coast cd's burnt, Best Of mixes, yes including The Unforgiven II and Summer of 69. The day was destined to be great, a fine start to the holidays, but twas not to be.

After picking up Kyle and Benji, we waited outside Yeat's house for the good old five minutes while he curls his hair, plucks his nose hairs and what not, when the Chazza just died. Idled to death. In shock, and surprise I went to start the beast up again, it sorta growled, almost saying 'Fuck you for waking me at 5.45am', but eventually it purred to it's slow rumble, only to die again. Eventually, like coaxing Ernie to leave The Shack with a stick, it started up and I took her on a victory lap. It survived. Yeats was almost ready at this stage, so we had a three course breakfast and then he jumped in the beast. All seemed well.

The epic journey was ready to proceed. Benji was talking usual sleep deprived shit, Kyle was seeping AGB and Yeats was just, pumped for beach. Tragedy struck. Cruising down Illaweena Street, the beast died... then came back to life. Scared by it's wavering loyalty, I wanted to run her around the block. I thought it'd be ok, no warning lights, she wasn't foaming at the mouth or anything. The beast seemed healthy, just suffering from PMS. Alas, it died rounding the bend onto Gowan and there she laid for the next hour, bruised and injured, weeping like a 10 year old boy whose Tonka truck fell into a stormwater drain.

Steam (or foam, I get confused between the whole beast to machine conversion), was seeping from under the bonnet. I opened her up and it seems that it's loyal owner had forgot about the necessity of oil. She was bone dry. I called Dad, he'd know what to do. Wrong, he's not the mechanic type, good with numbers, but not so much pets. RACQ was on the way though. After wishing we had packed a ball, or thinking of the possibility of retrieving The Shack cricket set we were passed by a Falcon load of Samoans. They were the only ones to stop and take a closer look at my dying beast. I guess they love animals too. I thanked the driver, and after a few 'bro's' later, they continued driving (probably to the beach knowing my twisted luck). Kyle's continual anal leakage kept everyone on their toes while we waited for the RACQ.

Enter Owen, RACQ mechanic for 15 years. I told him I was a twat and forget to feed her oil. After a bit of giggling to himself, he filled her with 3L of the good stuff, oil at $5 a litre. He warned me that I may of done her harm, the beast might be dead. Luckily it wasn't, she was just a little wounded, but it was serious. Turns out the first cylinder of my car is lazy and doesn't like to work (like someone I know) at idle. She only kicks into gear when the going gets tough, or going, either way. So turns out the beast isn't dead, just has lost a leg in the war against Iraq. I could blame Bush, but that'd just be exaggerating and the guy already has enough people whining to him, so I blame Fingal.

And yeah, I'm grounded until I fit her with a prosthetic leg, which looks like Wednesday at 1pm. So hoo-fucking-ray, Easter holidays going to be a blast!

Oh Cameron, I need another $15 for your Lamb of God ticket, the beast needed it, I know you'll understand, <3.

OaO