Got the following email from a good friend of mine, who works for a big car magazine. Shows just how messed-up autophiles can be. (This description, with its overtones of, well, self-love, fits nicely.)
"...in return for my soul?
Usually I enjoy editing our letters page. This month, we have one guy who loves himself and his Porsche so much he thinks he can see the'hope, warmth and happiness' in people's eyes when they just look at his car.
We have another guy who tells his wife she should be thankful he spends so much time with his cars, because he could be in a hotel room with his niece instead.
And another guy who blames environmentalists for the decreasing number of lovely, wonderful scrapyards.
I'm doing my bit for the world... by changing 'niece' to mistress."
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