Today is MOT day for my car.

We have three cars in this household. My wife drives a spanking new Mercedes. I totter around in a geriatric VW and there is also a 'hobby' car at which I throw money with very little return.

My method for fixing the 'hobby' car is to pile money onto a mechanic until he has to either fix it or suffocate under the weight of 50 pound notes.

But today is D-Day for the VW, since it will shortly be my primary mode of transport for journeys inappropriate for my bike.

Now, those of you outside of the UK probably have no idea what a MOT is.

Let me explain:

It consists of a man in a pair of oily dungarees walking around your car, and poking it with a screwdriver. He then checks the exhaust (presumably to ensure that there is enough carbon monoxide with which to commit suicide) and either presents you with a certificate or (more likely) sucks through his teeth and says something along the lines of

"Yessss, looks like yer flange rebate valve is shagged. Cost yer a thousand pounds. And thats just for labour."

The alternative is to go to a really dodgy looking pub, and ask for Honest Al. Who will sell you a certificate he 'acquired' from the back of a lorry.