Yeah, but I canny be bothered. BMW are ****e at that kind of thing. Even my 15 year old phone can get it right without having to specifically update the maps.
Getting your passenger to hold your phone and navigate while the two of you shout "I don't ****ing know, you're the one driving/navigating" is so much more fun anyway.
It is. It really is. Me an Fuddy in my car together is a punch up at 80 mph. Her car's GPS actually works so I refuse to take it anywhere.
I’ve had a rethink. Surely the existence of moonboots proves we have been to the moon, otherwise they would never have been invented.
I went camping in the Lake District many years ago, and my mate lent me this ultra lightweight sleeping bag called a moon-bag. Made, apparently, using technology perfected for the Apollo lunar expeditions. It was worse than ****ing useless, I nearly froze to death. Had to get drunk every night to stand any chance of falling asleep, and invariably woke up around 3.00am, colder than a polar bear’s tit.
I am sorry to hear of your unsatisfactory customer experience, however, as the NASA small print explains, alcohol lowers the body temperature and, while under the influence, it is not recommended to cop a feel of a polar bears mammary glands in the wee small hours.
Got mugged off at Millets when I was about to go on my first camping trip (the one where you transition from a Cub into a Scout. I wonder if that qualifies me for my own pronoun?) and the guy said the moon bag used reflective heat technology (tin foil iirc) to keep you nice and toasty. It was about a quarter of the size and weight of the other sleeping bags so I got one. Would have been warmer trying to huddle underneath a wet tea towel, utter waste of money but since we were poverty stricken my mum made me use it for every camping trip or sleepover for years afterwards. The older Scouts on the same trip cracked open the beers, the fags and the w.ank mags on the train journey. I had about two swigs of light ale, choked on a single puff of the cigarette (poove, I know) and marveled at the photos of nude hirsute burds. Had to wash some "moon bag" juice off when I got home.
Wits the difference between Armstrong and Disney. Neil didne go to the moon and Walt didne either. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha