You don’t drive a GQ — you revive it. Sometimes weekly.
It’s got no paint left, the power steering’s a rumour, and the rust’s holding hands across the chassis. But it starts, it sends, and it will make it... eventually.
This tee’s for the GQ lunatic who:
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Doesn’t own a workshop manual — just instinct
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Thinks CV joints are seasonal items
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Calls welding “emotional repair”
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Carries a 3kg hammer and hopes for the best
You’re not just four-wheel driving — you’re forging a spiritual connection with chaos. Welcome to the church of GQ.