Inevitable Inventory Expansion Tempered by Parking Improvements

CWMC Headquarters, Ardrossan, Ab: The days are getting longer, and a fresh crop of weeds is just starting to cover up the large, dead, car-shaped rectangles scattered randomly around the compound where last year's crop of freebie fuckpails festered unfettered by notions of suburban presentability or neighbourly goodwill.

The Domestic Car Division, tired of playing a smoky, leaking, muffler-less version of musical chairs with the never-ending rotating shitstorm of impossibly fucked-up clunkers that pass for the President's car collection, had decided to appropriate some permanent outdoor parking spaces at the expense of several dozen trees in various states of deadness and falling-over-ness. Chainsaws were procured, and several perfectly good hours of goofing-off time were sacrificed to the betterment of the parking situation. When the 2-stroke smoke settled, a tidy spot was secured for the latest of the Domestic Car Division' s Zero Funding Restorations.

  The President had acquired a 1950 Chevrolet Fleetline Deluxe in a series of trades of in- creasingly dubious reasoning, and multiple Agents had dedicated hours of precious off-duty time to the cause of getting the junkyard-condition fastback into something very close to a driveable state (not stoppable, mind); requiring a number of "field engineering" modifications by Agent 533 that rivaled any last-minute bullshit that the A-Team ever pulled off. Crusty 5-spoke Raiders astern mismatched to mummified F78-14s on vintage slots by the master Agent 100013 furnished the finishing touches to this finest hour for the DCD.

The dedication ceremony was kicked off with a speech by the President himself; surpassingly long-winded and gratuitously profane to such an extent that only those possessed of the most robust constitutions and sturdiest stomachs were able to attend the event in its entirety.

The Hill of Shame: not quite exactly like Pebble Beach.

   Following another short recess for half-time bong rips and a few refreshing double G&Ts, the President, with some small measure of assistance from Agent 8771 for the unorthodox starting procedure, was able to back the Chev into its new home on only the third attempt and with only minor cosmetic carnage ensuing.

  When asked to specify his plans for the fossilized Fleetline, the Prez replied that he "wasn't made aware that there had to be a plan" and went back to watching a youtube compilation video of himself being "helped" out of various well-known eating and drinking establishments; all set to a lively banjo soundtrack and with queasy gastrointestinal overdubs added for effect.

Full Vintage Motorboat Division Approval, of course.

  Other recently acquired treasures have been gathering on the CWMC Hill of Shame; a kind of provincial purgatory where dead vehicles of various varieties await their individual fates. Some sit stationary for want of wheels while others enjoy a last few moments of freedom before making the final journey to the junkyard. Still others have just arrived and sit in limbo while a gin-tastic President heroically performs a rudimentary triage to assign locations based on the chances of salvation; ranging from "Not very likely" all the way to "Extremely Goddamn Unlikely". 
  Among these new pieces we find a unit looking suspiciously like a motorboat, minus the motor and also short quite a number of boat-like qualities, such as water-tightness. It does, however, score pretty highly on the "Does it have cool tail fins?" question. The President defended the decision to take the junk collecting to the next level by suggesting that the 1959 Larson Thunderhawk would be "pretty goddamn sweet" were it restored and fitted with the appropriate gigantic, smoky OMC V4 or Merc "Tower of Power".
 All Agents are requested to keep watching this newsletter for declassified updates as the scene at HQ continues to deteriorate under the current administration.

New Agency Cruisers Singled Out for Recognition

  Cold War Motors Headquarters, Ardrossan, Ab: Spring is in the air at HQ this week, and with it comes the perennial perfume of old dog poop new growth, and, as the snow disappears, the reminder that the CWMC compound is still an epic, hopeless shitstorm.

  Seized slant sixes sit silently surrounded by a debris field rivaling that of a supernova while lazy dogs nap in the shade lent by various decomposing Dodges mellowing quietly in the new sun.

Field Units don't come much cooler than this.

  Spring also means that the President is compiling his annual list of Field Agents and respective Agency Cruisers to be singled out for special recognition and the presentation of the prestigious Field Unit Commander Kudos award, bestowed upon those Agents whose rides embody the CWMC ethos through a particularly pertinent purchasing principle; boldly exploring the outer limits of what might generously be defined as "patina", for example.
  Recent additions to the CWMC Agency Cruiser Pool have raised a number of appreciative eyebrows around the office, and a few of these have made the short list. These latest cruisers are definitive examples of what it means to grant Full Presidential Approval and are definitely worth a F.U.C.K.
  Agent 043 had been keeping one eye open for a pickup for some time, broadly hinting that it would be of roughly the same vintage and brand as his other Units, and presumably not so beautiful as to cause consternation when carrying around greasy gearboxes, expired engines, and the other inevitable trappings of the car sickness so prevalent at HQ.
  Of course, Agent 1080 caught wind of the truck search, and was happy to perform a little surrogate shopping on behalf of his fellow Agent. Several days later, a routine back-alley patrol yielded a promising candidate, and after a series of clandestine communications with Agent 6044 (there are no old rusty Dodges he doesn't know about, or already own), the owner's parents, an alcoholic astrologer named "Jim Antonic", and the owner himself, 043 was let in on the find and presented with the truck, which he promptly bought; presumably swayed by the generosity of his fellow Agents, and the overwhelming peer pressure.

Stylish bumper is a highlight.

  Proudly carrying the scars of forty plus years of service without a repaint, the 1970 Dodge Camper Special sets a new standard of excellence for laissez-faire rust repair, and the payoff for this strictly non-interventionist maintenance policy is something for all Agents to aspire to. Chalky, chapped panels contrast beautifully with vintage wheels and the whole package rolls to the chunky soundtrack of a hi-po 383 through straight cut duals: pure magic.

  On the topic of magic, Agent 7678 has just re-commissioned his Field Unit; much to the delight of an envious President, who, as has been well documented elsewhere in the pages of this newsletter, has some inexplicable affection for the gigantic devices concocted during the golden age of the Chrysler Corporation. 
  This latest addition to  the CWMC Heavy Cruiser class is another original paint survivor, having accumulated a mere 35000 miles in 41 years, and it looks every bit of it. Massive flanks still shine, unsullied by salt, $249.00 splash-jobs (still on special at the CWMC Body Works Division), or the countless parking lot signatures collected at long-gone Woolworths and Simpsons stores.

This is the way to show up for work at the Ford dealership.

  Rust is also con- spicuous by it's absence; 7678's 'Port must be one of a very tiny number of these fuselage freighters that does not wear quarter panels carved from funny foam and magic cheese. Of course, big-block motivation is a key part of the fun, and here again we are not disappointed. About as politically correct as a pointy white hood, the cammy 383 sucks back impressive amounts of precious premium and barfs it out a pair of sewer pipes under the back bumper.
  A heavily sedated President was briefly available for comment, before being wheeled back into court to face charges of Failure to Stop and Check Out the Savings and Resisting a Rest.
  "I rarely give a F.U.C.K., but these two Cruisers deserve the extra credit for outstanding achievement in the field of non-restoration. Nice work, gentlemen. Now, who's holding?"
  All Agents are please requested to stop buying better cars than the President, who is beginning to feel a bit like Mozart's piano teacher.