In the old days when I had my first octavia vrs I used to throw money at it with regards to mods and I loved that car so much, no expense was spared and the better the name of a product the more I had to have it, I would even place the company's stickers on it just in case a person didn't know it was the best of the best, I would roll into a tuners and hang around working on more ways to spend my hard earned cash and then a very old and tired looking person would hand me my keys and I would revel in the transformation of it, I would love showing up other cars and revel in being able to keep pace with much more expensive cars, life was great, I saw my wife, I looked young and fresh and the car was a little beasty.

Then it got stolen and written off and two years of yearning and missing my baby ensued until finally I found another vrs of the same colour and year.

So I thought to myself do you know what I am going to do as much as I can myself and bargain hunt and enjoy the satisfaction of doing it. So I began getting parts together on the cheap, still good brands mind you just second hand or haggled for, I was very pleased with myself and fitting the parts was pretty easy for me and the said satisfaction was great I was very pleased, now with cars you get used to things and a once smiles per miles stage one car was getting boring and felt slow and sluggish so you have to go stage two, you spend hours researching what's needed and then weeks buying it all at super prices and then further hours looking through guides and triple checking you have everything needed to do the job.

Once satisfied you place said car in your work shop and begin stripping things off and cutting parts off of your car and it's easy and then you begin to fit your new parts and it's going great and then you start on the fmic and in your work shop world war three begins, it's you vs your car, all of your weeks of shopping and preparation fly out of the window and you begin to develop two bold patches on each side of your head, your nails become none existent and you begin to curse so called professionals and ops of guides and what's needed lists, you turn off the radio and replace it with evil voices in your head, you attain six stitches from a sharp edge on your modified crash bumper, nothing fits and you relise the parts lists are no complete, weeks go by and finally you win the war, you open the workshop doors start the car and reverse out onto the road you proceed to drive off up the road and twelve feet later a Taliban road side bomb goes off along with the most difficult joint on your hoses, you trundle back to the workshop and spend hours sorting it all and your ready again.

This time all is fine and you have done it, you go for a drive and nothing bad happens however your now old and tired and dirty and the satisfaction is none existent, you drive home to show the wife your fruit and discover she has left you for a forge mechanic, this happend at some stage in the past two months, hell even the dog left you so you can't even kick it.

In short my guide for fmic installing is this, spend money on a big brand have it fitted for you and attain smiles per miles.

I'm off to burn my car and buy a g-wizz and then I'm going to holiday in the new forest alone old and maimed still taking pills for the evil voices in my head.

Edited 23 March, 201412 yr by Ender

Very entertaining, you should write a book . 

Sounds familiar...

Good thing I haven't fitted my FMIC yet... :P