YOUR car boot is the store cupboard that isn’t in the house and nobody looks at, so it’s where the real freaky sh*t piles up. Here’s what yours says about you:
Gym bag, box of charity shop stuff, multipack of toilet rolls
You’re terminally lazy and use your boot as a storage area for your good intentions. The gym clothes have been festering since your last visit in May, the charity shop books will never make it to Oxfam, and you bring toilet rolls in one at a time as and when.
Stray lemon, tin of tomatoes, bottle of ketchup
It’s a mystery to you why items keep going missing from your badly-packed shopping, especially round items. Another mystery is what’s rattling in your boot when you turn sharp corners. Because you’re stupid, these mysteries will never be solved.
Broken laptop, hamster cage, oversized Donald Duck toy
You’re unhinged. If this is the kind of sh*t you keep in your car boot, what the hell kind of mess is there inside your head? The only thing stopping you being a serial killer is there’s no room in your boot for a corpse.
Curtain pole, old mattress, six bags of rubble
You’re a keen fly-tipper looking for the perfect spot to enjoy your fun hobby.
Sony six-CD autochanger loaded with Best Ofs and Top Gear compilations
You bought your company car off your business when you became self-employed in 2005 and have seen no reason to update it. Seven hours of music is enough music for anyone for the rest of their life.
Wheel jack, jumpleads, reflective emergency triangle, hi-viz jacket, torch, first aid kit
You are in fact a serial killer.
