Wednesday, July 21, 2004  

When it gets dark I tow your heart away.

Posts over at Lyle’s and Steve’s have got me thinking about traffic, even up here on the west coast of Cumbria, traffic is getting heavier. Let’s forget for the moment, the dangers of cramming yet more cars onto our roads, and deal with the ones already on them.

Rules of the road:

When you have paid for your petrol and you have ambled back to your car, take your time getting comfortable. Put your seat belt on, set your radio, have a chat to your passenger, eat the pork pie you just bought. Don’t for one moment give a single fucking thought to poor twat behind you waiting for the pump.

When you are careering down the motorway at the breakneck speed of forty-five miles per hour, make sure you sit in the middle lane. That way everyone else will have a brilliant time trying to avoid dying in a fireball trying to avoid you.

When returning to your car to find you have a parking ticket, shout abuse at the traffic warden. It’s his fault you parked illegally. You’re English damn it; you should be able to park where the hell you want to. We didn’t fight two world wars so you can be told where and where not to park, especially by some jumped up little Hitler.

When arriving at a mini roundabout, just sit there and wait for the other person to go first. Everyone knows that the highway code tells us that mini roundabouts are not governed by any laws. Don’t give a second thought to the unfortunate fucker sat behind you in the ever-increasing queue.

When attempting to join a main road from a side junction, ensure you have a good look left and right. When you have ascertained the level of traffic ensure you wait until a car is only twenty feet from your fucking bonnet before pulling out. The other driver will relish the opportunity to test his brakes. You will know this by the other driver raising his middle finger. This, as everyone knows, is the international signal for “thank you kindly my good friend”.

When attempting to turn off a main road, onto a side road or garage forecourt, don’t bother to indicate. The other drivers in the vicinity will never learn clairvoyance if you keep using those annoying little orange lights that are stuck at various places all over your fucking car.

If you have small children, put a sign in the back window of your car. It should say something along the lines of “small person on board”. If you don’t have one of these I will intentionally ram you, causing massive damage to both our cars, and putting all our lives at risk.

Whilst speeding past your local primary school ensure you are doing one of the following. Talking on your mobile phone, eating a Ginsters pasty, lighting up a cigarette, rummaging in your glove box for your sunglasses, looking at the person sat in the back. Be creative, you can do anything as long as you don’t watch where you are fucking going. If a child should accidentally stray into your path, well it’s tough !

If you own a small hatch back, like a Nova, ensure you drive everywhere at seventy miles per hour or greater. Everyone knows these cars are only safe when they achieve the national maximum speed. To warn everyone within a three-mile radius that you are driving about, strap a fucking huge tailpipe to the back of the exhaust system. It will give children and pets a precious few extra seconds to get out of your way, as you charge into town for your emergency Burberry delivery.

When choosing a car to take your little angels to school, take the following into consideration. Your kids are only small, there is only two of them, the school is only four hundred yards away, the school is on a tiny street with no room to turn around, the residents of the street find it extremely difficult to get in and out of their houses at school times. Once you have weighed up the pros and cons of all the cars on offer, buy an enormous four-wheel drive with bull bars, spotlights and a satellite navigation system. The streets do get very wet and muddy in winter.

| posted by Simon | 7:21 pm | 0 comments
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