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.

Rusty Floors Exhibit Coming Together Nicely

Outdoor Storage Compound, CWMC Headquarters, Ardrossan, Ab: After an exhaustive and painstaking search, the centerpiece of what promises to be the must-see exhibit at Cold War Motors this spring has been tracked down, shot, and dragged back to HQ to be prepared for presentation at this year's "Presidential Awards of Distinction" gala, coming sometime in May.

Perseverance paid off with this gem.

   Soft sounds of sympa- thetic sibilance accom- panied the unloading of the 1958 Mayfair coupe as appre- hensive Agents from various Divisions queued up to catch a glimpse of the latest installation in a long-running series of profoundly poor car-buying decisions that have become the President's signature style. 

Dodge #2 is also very impressive.

 Despite repeated requests for funding to subsidize some of the more glaring storage issues, the Domestic Car Division has proceeded with Operation Fred and Barney: Floorless Fashions of the Fabulous Fifties- one man's vision and $2270.00 worth of fucked-up Dodges.
  "Don't miss this nostalgia-fest of soggy carpets, crumbling seat cushions, and rotten rocker panels," says the March issue of Automobile Quarterly magazine; " ...hats off to the dedicated artists of the Domestic Car Division for putting together this fabulous collection of ferric oxide and mossy underlay for the world to enjoy."

Dodge #4 is settling in.

In the CWMC equivalent of a Grand Opening, all of the Dodges will be brought together for a rare photo session, as soon as enough old bias-plies can be scrounged up from various tire piles to get the frame rails off the ground and mobile.

#3 is down at the stern.

  "Making the best of a colossal fuck-fest like this one will take all the skills that this Division can muster..." said rolling-stock retailer Agent 100013 earlier this week when asked for an approximate date of completion for the tire-fitment program. Interestingly, tire choice remains an important part of the display, while panel fit and mechanical viability take a back seat (also not included) here again, still subject to the vagaries of the ever-incomprehensible Agent Field Guide to Vehicle Appearance, re: Ch. 14, v. 1-6 (rev. 2):

Wanted: double pins.

   "Suffer not thine yard ornaments to wear aging all-seasons; the path to righteousness lies in the enlistment of the unholiest of ancient Firestone 500 double-pinstripe 6.50-14s. Christ knows, tires are everything."

That's more like it.

Dodge #1 actually moves.

  Unable to be reached directly for comment due to the difficult nature of his bail conditions, the President has released a short statement from his yacht, moored just outside the jurisdiction of those who would see him incarcerated for what amounts to not much more than a series of unfortunate misunderstandings involving a couple of sexy lab technicians, an army-surplus gravity bong, and a "liberated" Russian Zenit 2SB launch vehicle.

#1 shows how its done.

  "G&T supplies low; send money." read the brief but clearly heartfelt letter of congratulation. 
  HQ remains the scene of some consternation as the annual slushy mud-bog continues to thwart efforts to move units into position for the upcoming Opening Night festivities, sure to be dimly recalled for months to come.
  All Agents are please encouraged to report to HQ for a couple of cold ones, followed by a brief refresher course on the many financial and lifestyle perks of obsessive-compulsive car hoarding. 

Happy hunting!

French Car Division Unrepentant Following Latest Funding Scandal

CWMC Cold Storage Bunker #3, Ardrossan, Ab: Subsequent to a brief and blissful period of relative inactivity, the budget-busting brainchildren of the French Car Division have just recently launched Operation Get This Crepe Out of my Yard.

  As usual, at least part of the blame for this latest in a long series of baguette-beater-bargains can be attributed to CWMC French-Car-Division ringleader and hydro-pneumatic high-priest, Agent 747.  Through his extensive underground network that dates back decades to the relative heyday of 1970's-era Francophilia, the location of the ailing 1971 DS20 Estate was ascertained and a small recovery team of Agents dispatched to retrieve the unit from the predictably quiet, brainy residential area where it had lain dormant for multiple years under a large, dripping willow, with commensurate cosmetic corrosion easily evident.

Sticker adds much-needed redneck cred.

As Operation Versailles is still at best two or three years from viability, a sub- stantially less deconstructionist approach to this latest double-chevron driver was adopted, with restoration efforts being largely geared towards bare-minimum safety and presentability standards intended to provide several interim seasons of floaty French fun while the arduous, nut-and-bolt reconstruction of the President's other 1971 DS continues at a pace that makes continental drift look like AA/Fuel Altered.

Stella is ready to go.

   It is also not entirely by accident that at least one of the Citroens will remain fully assembled at all times to serve as a rolling instruction book to be consulted when it becomes evident that, just maybe, the President might have forgotten where a few of the thousands of unrecognizable grommets, twisted steel lines, proportioning valves, hoses, and 7mm screws are supposed to go. Suggestions to Agent 747 that perhaps he should be the lucky expert tasked with re-installing the famously fiendish wiring harness have thus far been met with polite laughter, followed by convincingly feigned deafness and sudden, just- remembered "appointments" to be kept.

Agent 747 sold this one back in the 80's, too.

  Having con- structed at sizable personal expense a veritable Maginot Line-of-Credit, the President defended the FCD's blatant thievery and book-keeping chicanery while remaining officially detached and still nominally capable of addressing the ferocious funding fiasco with a protracted propaganda assault aimed at mitigating the effects of record-low morale among the administrative personnel at HQ.

Parked in CSB III with CX, 604, and non-French rubbish.

  "I think we've probably seen the worst of it already," said the President today in a brief interview from the second floor of the old Liquor Control Board store where he was hiding out from police asking questions about a missing Gulfstream II, a $979.00 room-service bill at Holiday Inn Havana in the name of Pancho Del Benzino, and several pending paternity suits involving tellers at First National Bank of Uruguay.
  "...it looks as though everything is going to work itself out in time for Chicken Wing Mayhem at the Sawmill on Thursday."
  All Agents are please encouraged to stop by HQ for bong hits, followed by a brief salary review (Hint: don't get your hopes up) and boozy speculation about the future of fiat currencies and Fiat Chryslers. Same hint applies.

Mudflaps and Deathtraps: Show us your Grips

CWMC Headquarters, Ardrossan, Ab: While winter winds up to maximum, style-conscious Agents are already modeling this year's latest looks in rusty rims and subversively salty sidewalls. 

Agent 4261 shows how it's done.

  That's right: the slushy, sodium-slurry sultans of Operation S.C.U.M. are alive and well and spreading the word with freezing-temperature-fashions for Agency Winter Cruisers.

Just a little crud can go a long way, but to really pull off the look, a certain attention to detail and some well-placed waste will send your ride to the darker side; you're an ambassador of anarchy with a 12-ply rating.

The obligatory Grandpa Grips of yore have been largely superseded by more modern, softer-looking winters that actually probably work pretty well; but this doesn't mean they can't look nasty. A few simple tricks can be found in the ever-helpful Field Agent Guide to Vehicle Appearance: Chapter 43 of Jimmy's Letter to his Lawyer, verses 11-13: 
  

Dirty white letters are a can't-miss.

  Thine fronts and thine rears shall not be of the same size, nor the same brand, nor age, nor type. Let not thine rims be too Goddamn shiny, either; for vanity is a sin for summer. Thou shalt do this in remembrance of me; for thou knowest who thou art. Yes, I'm looking at thou. 

  In other important news, the President has finally announced the winner of this years coveted President's Choicest Winter Beater of Distinction award.

Attention to detail is everything.

  At a mercifully brief and largely unattended press conference held earlier this week, the President, quite obviously very much leaning very heavily upon the podium, announced that this year's PCWBD would be going home with Agent 100013, for his inspired '87 5.0. The Prez went on at some considerable length about the stomach-turning appropriateness of the "stolen at least 6 times" vibe that 100013's rusty, broken, rattle-stang radiated. He probably could have kept his Oscar-acceptance-length speech a little tidier with out going into such a passionate endorsement of the chopped-off blue bottle exhaust and the interior full of used tires, but most present considered the event a success as it concluded without substantial vomiting or violence.

Another masterpiece from the fertile mind of Agent 100013.

  Perennial PCWBD champ Agent 1080 was a strong contender with his 1974 Chrysler Newport, but was taken out of the running when he inexplicably sold the 'Port and bought some kind of late-model shame-blob. Sanctions are being considered as this issue goes to press; updates to follow, etc.
  Another usually-strong suitor, Agent 0311, was also DQ'd this year because of the final, long-overdue expiration of his latest, and probably last, Volvo 245. 0311 has chosen to drive his sweet Saab 9000 year-round, and is getting a few hurt looks from HQ. A couple of other Agency Cruisers were considered, but in the end none of them could touch 100013's Rustang for sheer S.C.U.M. appeal. The huge hole in the dash with wires puking out of it everywhere was just the icing on the cake after a thorough and carefully documented inspection revealed a bounty of decay and abuse that spells "winning" every time.

Saline Motorsports Edition: Sacrificial Salty Supercar.

  The President was very nearly overcome with the sheer mag- nificence of 100013's achieve- ment; he stood, weaving quite noticeably now, and presented the trophy to a completely random passer-by before getting into a cab and trying to start it with a cocktail fork for several minutes while the police were called in to assess the situation and grab a couple of sausage rolls left over from the reception. 
   All Agents are requested to stop in and try to help clean up some of the extra drinks.

Downsizing Policy Derailed by Presidential Subterfuge

CWMC Cold Storage Bunker #1, Ardrossan, Ab: With all available auto storage spoken for, and the rest of the CWMC compound reduced to overflow parking for a bottomless pit of rusty restoration projects and parts, the in-house Department of the Treasury has finally seen fit to introduce a much-needed downsizing policy in an attempt to stave off inevitable financial, social, and aesthetic ruin.

VJBD getting crowded

  Unfortunately, and not for the first time, the President has chosen to carefully misinterpret the spirit of the agreement, and rather than downsize the actual collection, has simply shifted his focus from acquisition of large, heavy, 4-wheeled clunkers to a short-term substitute policy of hoarding smaller, more easily handled, ancient motorcycles; particularly the wind-up toy variety of 1960's-era machinery favored by the Vintage Jap Bike Division.

  These miniature machines have gained favour lately as their tidy dimensions and light weight allow them to be easily positioned in between other vehicles, whereby the collecting can continue unchecked for the time being.

Important stuff, indeed.

  When other Agents were polled on the subject of the President's downsizing efforts, wittier wags wondered whether the new policy was in fact a de facto endorsement of his apparent fixation on all things 2-stroke, and if the smell of 20:1 had finally gotten to what was left of both his mental and structural facilities. Others suggested that perhaps the pile of projects would hit a critical mass at some point, and level off as the Prez shifted focus to ever-smaller collectibles, filling the gaps with old video-game consoles, cell-phones, Matchbox cars, ashtrays, and little bits of string or shiny pebbles.

They fit just about anywhere...

  "Sometimes you just have to adapt to the situation..." said the President today in an interview from his office at HQ, where he could just be seen behind a vast wall of empty Slurpee cups, stacking dusty drifts of old Bargain Finders and Auto Traders while draining a couple of robust G&Ts between bong hits. 

  "...there's always room for another important piece of history."

   Meanwhile, the VJBD is pleased to announce that there are now enough parts in the building to attempt the reconstruction of the 1966 Suzuki S-32 procured last week in a top-secret trade for one of the half-dozen snowmobiles marked for disposal after a brief bout with sanity revealed that, while 23 motorcycles is a reasonable number, 14 sleds is just silly. Look for regular blue-smoke updates to follow as they are declassified.

Anyone up for Missile Command?

  All Agents are encouraged to please report to HQ this week and attempt to liberate some square-footage in any one of the CWMC buildings by drinking as much beer as possible and just sort of shoving things around.

Restoration Division Rolls out Latest Masterpiece

CWMC Cold Storage Bunker #2, Ardrossan, Ab: With the worldwide credit markets imploding and weed prices showing double-digit inflation, the CWMC Restoration Division has seen it's budget decimated after the latest round of  debt-ceiling hikes, bailouts, and feely-nicey public-relations bullshit has again failed to generate any real fiscal fix-up for the President's very serious dilemma of how to restore twenty cars on a budget for one. The obvious solution, it seems, would be to sell all but one car, and restore it; but the President, like a few other world leaders, has chosen the austerity route.

The Kaiser as delivered after another boozy buying binge.

  The Resto-ration Division chose the fittingly low-end "Special" model from the 1951 Kaiser line upon which to lavish absolutely no funding and minimal time in an attempt to prove to justifiably skeptical creditors that the ridiculous and incoherent CWMC car collection could be managed on a vastly reduced, almost embezzlement-free budget.
  With the entry deadline  for the 2012 Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance only days away, the inevitable corner-cutting started in earnest. As the latest in a series of what soon became known around the office as the Zero-Funding Restorations was fearlessly hammered together, Agents from multiple divisions donated precious seconds, even minutes of their ample spare time to this heroic undertaking.

Finished! Just buy the judges a few drinks first.

  Carefully leaning and bullshitting away, the President, now fully delusional and still convinced of a possible class win (at very least an honorable mention), just rolled the broken windows out of sight and tried to scoop out as much of the mouse shit and leafy detritus as he could with one hand, while the other held steady a pretty tidy G&T for 10:41 am.

$9.79 hood badge blew the budget

  Plans to get the Kaiser's Continental "Supersonic" 6 operational were shelved pretty quickly after a brief and discouraging look under the hood, and it was decided that no one would notice, as most serious show cars are trailered around and just kind of fussed over, anyway. Some old tarps and blankets took care of the upholstery needs without undue expenditure, while some fresh air in the tires made pushing much easier; important for proper show cars.
  Thriving mossy ecosystems were uprooted in the name of redemption, and turtle wax duly applied to the remaining paint-covered areas in the hopes that the folksy, casual, run-whatcha-brung- style judging at Pebble Beach would forgive a few, tiny, imperfections in the name of originality and preservation.

Radio delete - of course.

   The latest of these new, Zero-Funding Restorations (ZFRs) was unveiled at HQ yesterday to an appropriately subdued, select, Agents-only audience. Unfortunately, the Prez had been prepared to forestall what he perceived as a liquidity crisis by stockpiling cases of Gilbey's in his office at HQ, and had begun a pretty serious skim operation by noon that day.  Several hours later, the scene at HQ had degenerated into something substantially more like a proper fundraiser, with mysterious women and hazy, half-remembered speculation about whether the whole thing was in fact a disguised bailout of the French Car Division, whose books were singularly ruinous, and whose recent escapades had demonstrated a wholesale disregard for accountability on any level.

CSB II is full again.

  A speech was unavoidable, but someone evidently forgot to remind the President that his Wilhelm II imper-sonation, however accurate and studiously delivered, would be a tough sell in today's econo-litically correct climate, and there were definitely a few uncomfortable silences at his latest, and hopefully final, public appearance for this year.
  Not that he noticed.
  All Agents are encouraged to please report to HQ to pick up their Zero-Funding Bonus Cheques (ZFBCs).