Greetings All,
Sadness reigns in the Jones household. Your humble servant was on his
back, just tightening up one of the last bolts holding on the oil pan, =
when the grim realisation struck his numbed brain that the bolt hole was
stripped. The first clue was that the socket wrench could be spun round
for several hundred revolutions without any apparent tightening. Secondl=
y,
when the bolt was removed," luvely" little shiny ribbons of alloy materia=
l
accompanied it.
His first thought on solving this little problem involved the use of a
gallon of gasoline and a match. First off, though, was to apply a cold,
brown and frothy medicine to his twitching lips. Slowly, a smile formed =
on
his blackened and slimy face. "Maybe me mates on the Internet can think =
of
something. Yes, by Jove, that's the ticket!"
Pondering the situation, he had to admire the cunning of those naughty
Englishmen at the toy MG Midget Factory in ensuring that this barely
accessible bolt into the "sealing block" was directly above the frame cro=
ss
member. This served the dual purpose of guaranteeing cross threading and=
,
also, of negating the remedial action of drilling out the hole to accept =
a
bigger bolt. He could almost hear the beer-breathed foreman laughing and=
shouting "That'll learn 'em! Bloody Yanks. They'll have to pull the who=
le
stinking engine out to fix that little balls-up"
Easing his wracked and filthy, sweaty form on to the nice clean couch,the=
humble servant now thinks: "It's only one little bolt. Cor Blimey, there=
must have been twenty of them blighters. It won't make a ha'pence of
difference. I'll just fill 'er up with Castrol and let 'er rip"
Can you save this wretched, clueless individual from blowing up one of He=
r
Majesty's vehicles? Do you know where he may purchase a tube of "Instan=
t
Bolt Hole" ? Or what?
Yours, Adrian
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