Late Night Photodump Pt. 43

"slipperysallylikespenguins" (slipperysally) 12/11/2016 at 00:13 • Filed to: None

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Noodles > slipperysallylikespenguins 12/11/2016 at 00:21

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Nice

If only EssExTee could be so grossly incandescent > slipperysallylikespenguins 12/11/2016 at 01:32

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slipperysallylikespenguins > If only EssExTee could be so grossly incandescent 12/11/2016 at 01:58

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mmmm, that is very nice

pip bip - choose Corrour > slipperysallylikespenguins 12/11/2016 at 06:29

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that Micra gif is funny!

AuthiCooper1300 > slipperysallylikespenguins 12/11/2016 at 07:05

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Bar the front spoiler, the arancio corsa Urraco looks very dishy indeed.

Obviously that dour Kiwi Wallace couldn’t bloody keep still: just for fun he did one-off souped-up versions of the Miura, the Jarama (the defunct but excellent Supercar Classics magazine documented its rebuild in a series of articles in 1991) and now, it seems, also the Urraco.

Never seen that one before, thanks for the heads-up.

RallyDarkstrike - Fan of 2-cyl FIATs, Eastern Bloc & Kei cars > slipperysallylikespenguins 12/11/2016 at 07:40

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Wow....that Micra Cup video....nuts! Talk about calm under pressure! 0_o

Who says you can’t have fun with ~100hp race cars!

AuthiCooper1300 > slipperysallylikespenguins 12/11/2016 at 08:05

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In deep rural France, probably near the sleepy, gorgeous town of Sarlat-la-Canéda, five silent, wiry men are cleaning and tidying up their gear. Sometimes they joke a bit, with short saucy laughs, in the same way that surgeons and nurses do when you are cut wide open in the operating table and things are not going too well.

They used to be called barbouzes, even though they didn’t usually sport a beard, fake or otherwise.

There is still an unmarked helicopter to board, and then an anonymous-looking business jet; and finally some nondescript heavy of a friendly logistics company will take them across the Atlantic.

The local papers won’t really know what to make of it, but his neighbours won’t be really surprised either. The man was a bit of a weirdo, they’ll say, shaking their heads. He had this foreign, funny-looking station wagon, they’ll say; and he had it painted like a cheapo chocolate box, they’ll point out, the kind pimps give to their girls once in a while as a vile token of appreciation.

It will be a clean job, as this kind of operation usually is.

And once it is done Monsieur Opron will be avenged.

And the five wiry, silent men will go back to the Dordogne, to the night drills, to the firing range, to the endless exercises, in wait until the honour of the Republic needs restoring again.