This guy afforded me much amusement during the cold war of Brexit.  So I feel it my civic duty to host his "exhibition".

"ABOUT 'YOU, ME & COLD WAR STEVE
THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION OF THE PEOPLE'

Thank you for taking the time to download the exhibition!
All these pictures will print up very big but will also look great small so you choose. You may need to play about to make sure you're getting the best results resolution wise. Ask a mate who's good with the stuff, or as a last resort email and we'll try to help!
Print to paper, direct to board or foam board, feel free to mount or add borders if you want. You may decide to frame them, or not. 
There is no set order to display. Titles of each are included as the file names. Other than that there is no info to include, feel free to write your own if you want. 
We'll be doing an exhibition tour poster template for you to use, so drop us an email so we can send it out to you when it's ready. Let us know about your exhibition, send us the details so we can include on our round up of who is showing the pictures where. We'll do what we can to support before and during the exhibition period. 

Have fun and be creative . . 

The CWS Office 
coldwarsteveoffice@gmail.com
x"

My old man died five years ago. Five years, two months and thirteen days, to be precise.  On his 81st birthday.

You accumulate a lot of stuff in 81 years - which ended up being shared with my family and others, including the house I currently live in. And amongst all the stuff, he left a car. A car that he went on about constantly, to my complete incomprehension. (I'm sure it's very nice Dad... but it's only a Honda). Since the administration of his estate was a job that fell to me, I thought I'd better clean it up (he'd barely driven it for a year), drive it around for a bit to ensure it was still working and then get rid of it.

Instead, I fell in love with it.

Dozy woman's insurers - Admiral - pronounced the Legend a Cat S (structurally damaged) write-off. Absolute nonsense, which has led to a month of arguing, after which they had a change of heart (an MOT pass helped) and authorised repairs.  But this is a 12 year old car and Honda can't get a new door to the UK until May.  Ho hum really - I sealed up the gap between window and crumpled door with duct tape and have been happily driving her around for the last two months.

Returning from Birmingham this week - a 280 mile round trip - I'd made it all the way to the Reigate exit from the M25, when Waze suggested I might be better off taking a route through the narrow backroads of Chipstead to get home. I wish I'd ignored this advice, but I didn't.  I know those roads - but the several drivers around me probably also following Waze clearly didn't. Which is probably why another twonk piled into the back of me at the junction of Doghurst and Hazlewood lanes.

My insurer's agents have given me the dullest of VW Passats to drive around in, whilst arranging to get repairs assessed: this is an entirely separate claim. But, looking at the damage, I suspect this is the end of The Legend - this kick up the arse looks a lot more expensive to me, assuming they can even get the parts - and if they can, I'll probably be waiting until June for them.

It's a tragedy really. She might be 12 years old, but she'd probably go on for another 12 if twats didn't keep driving into her. This immaculate, beautiful car may only make one more journey.

To the scrapheap.