Just adding to the mountain of praise on here for Jim, but I couldn’t not drop a review after the work he’s just finished on my Z32.
We all already know Jimmer is the go-to guy for these cars, but experiencing it firsthand is something else. He has given the car a completely new lease of life. That rough idle is entirely sorted, and with the new injectors and new loom in, it honestly runs just like it’s come straight from the factory.
His insight and attention to detail live up to every bit of the hype on this forum. Communication was top-tier throughout, the turnaround was incredibly quick, and—as everyone always says—it was very well-priced for the level of specialist expertise you’re getting. Jim even checked in with me after I got the car back to make sure it was still running perfectly.
Safe to say he’s found another return customer in me; I'm already planning the trip back down to Bristol next year for some new turbos.
Just adding more reinforcement to what this community already knows: if your Z needs sorting, @jimmer is the man!
By
mailrebdog ·
This bloke with Tourette's Syndrome walks into the most exclusive
restaurant in town.
'Where's the pissing, motherfucking manager, you cocksucking
arsewipe?' he inquires of one of the waiters.
The waiter is taken-aback and replies, 'Excuse me sir but could you
please refrain from using that sort of language in here. I will get the
manager as soon as I can'.
The manager comes over and the bloke asks, 'Are you the chicken-fucking
manager of this bastard place?'
'Yes sir, I am,' replies the manager, 'but I would prefer it if you
could refrain from speaking such profanities in this, a private restaurant'
'Fuck off' replies the bloke 'and where's the fucking piano?'
'Pardon?' says the manager.
'Fucking deaf as well, are we? You snivelling little piece of shit,
show me your cunting piano.'
'Ah,' replies the manager, 'you've come about the pianist job' and
shows the bloke to the piano.
'Can you play any blues?'
'Of course I fucking can,' and the bloke proceeds to play the most
inspiring and beautiful sounding honky-tonk blues that the manager has ever
heard.
'That's superb. What's it called?'
'I tried to shag yer missus on the sofa but the springs kept hurting my
dick,' replies the bloke.
The manager is a bit disturbed and asks if the bloke knows any jazz.
The bloke proceeds, playing the most melancholy jazz solo the manager
has ever heard.
'Magnificent,' cries the manager, 'What's it called?'
'I Wanted a wank over the washing machine but I got my balls caught in
the soap drawer'.
The manager is a tad embarrassed and asks if he knows any romantic
ballads.
The bloke then plays the most heartbreaking melody the manager has
ever heard, 'And what's this called?' asks the manager.
'As I fuck you under the stars with the moonlight shining off your
hairy ring-piece,' replies the bloke.
The manager is highly upset by the bloke's language but offers him the job
on condition that he doesn't introduce any of his songs or talk to any of
the customers.
This arrangement works well for a couple of months until one night,
sitting opposite him, is the most gorgeous blonde he has ever laid his eyes on.
She's wearing an almost see through dress, her breasts are almost falling
out the top of her black lace bra,and the skimpy little 'G' string she's
wearing is doing very little to conceal her ample charms.
She's sitting there with her legs slightly open, sucking suggestively on
asparagus shoots as the butter is dripping down her chin.
The image is too much for the bloke and he scurries off to the Gents to
furiously masturbate. He's tugging away furiously when he hears the manager's voice.
'Where's that bastard pianist?'
He just has time to relieve himself, and in a fluster he runs back to
the piano having not bothered to adjust himself properly, sits down and
starts playing some more tunes. The blonde steps up and walks over to the
piano, leans over and whispers in his ear, 'Do you know your knob and
bollocks are hanging out your trousers and dripping spunk on your shoes?'
'Know it' he said, 'Hell I wrote it.'
CheerZ,
Andy
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