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:: Monday, June 09, 2003 :: I got the Bristol Observer shit rag through the door on Friday, had a glace through it for the weekly confirmation that we can't afford to buy a house unless we want to share a skip with two dealers and a pimp, and stumbled upon an article about a retired policeman's love of fast cars. I didn't bother reading it, but the big quote used to draw your attention was, "What a lovely noise - there's nothing to beat the growl and woofle of a big V8 under your control, is there?" What the hell is "Woofle"?
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