"WD-40 & the Breaststroke: Slippery Fixes and Mum’s Battle Under the Bonnet!" Because if I can untangle bras, I can lube a Toyota.

Project: “WD-40 & the Battle of the Boobs”

First, I wrangled the boobs into a sports bra that’s seen more action than my Toyota. Those girls needed lockdown mode—can’t have rogue knockers knocking over engine bits. Armed with WD-40 in one hand and snacks in the other (for me, not the car), I lifted the bonnet like I knew what I was doing.

I sprayed that magical liquid gold like I was blessing the engine. Grease melted away faster than my willpower at a bake sale. Boobs bounced every time I leaned too far in—one near miss and I almost WD-40’d my cleavage. Not ideal, but probably exfoliating?

Wiped down parts I couldn’t name, muttered something about torque for street cred, and by the end, my engine was gleaming and my bra had lost all structural integrity.

Final result? Toyota looks slick, I smell like industrial lemon, and my boobs? Heroic, slightly oiled, and still swinging proudly.