My name is Smokey Looney and this is me car. Here she is in all her glory. Favoured automobile of feens, shams, Boys, langers and their ol' dolls (in the back). Me ol' lade's, ehh, I mean me OWN Honda Civic. Note the sea-green body paint (not a million miles from my favourite colour, lime-green) and the hubcaps, which could potentially be replaced by alloys.

So you's spent yer 4 or 5 grand on insurance (or been put on the ol' lade's) and you're ready to find out why the Civic is the total berries of a vehicle. Here's me favourite part of the Civic: the H on the bonnet. H for Honda, like. You might get the H tattooed on your upper arm like I did. Impresses the ol' dolls - I should know cos I've had a few! H is also for hash. See, the fellas that invented the Civic was mad for the tokes. 

 Don't show the face round Daunt Square until you've mastered the handbrake and all its nuances. When approaching a corner with little concern for your fellow citizens' lives (and in your usual hurry absolutely nowhere), give this baby a tug and you'll take the corner with maximum speed, flair and machismo. The value of these moves is doubled in the so-called "Bridewell-Anglesea St-Courthouse Triangle". This makes you worthy of feens' respect, and desirable in the eyes of women.

 Here's me stereo and me two tapes: Bob Marley's "Legend" and UB40's "Greatest Hits". The first one is special cos the feen that gave it to me was the dealer for one of The Wailers in the early 80's. Perfect for those long drives to Monkstown Golf Club to collect magic mushies. Other reggae-related accessories that look the job in your Civic are Heile Sellaisse seat covers, "Mission Aborted, Gone For Spliff" bumper stickers, and green, yellow and red go-faster stripes. Pure daycent.

 Not that I need it, but there's plenty of space in the boot for all ye South Mall poshies to put your golf clubs and yachts. Here's what I use the luggage space for: A pickaxe for those dangerous trips through Douglas (I hate Douglas), a hurley for any altercations out Bishopstown direction, and a good supply of imitation narcotics, to be produced when anyone questions your hardness.

 Imitation... Cos I've smoked all the real stuff, like.