Being on holiday with a possible lack of Internet access means that I have to stash a load of complaints in advance so that I can be sure that you, dear readers, have a daily complaint to enjoy every day.
Typical. When I need them, I can’t find a single thing to complain about.
Yes, I’m complaining about being unable to complain.
Normal service will return tomorrow.
How could I possibly be driving at 70mph in a field? You are showing me a road that is only fifty feet to my left, but according to you, I’m bouncing and crashing over divots and through hedges at the national speed limit.
You have more computing power than the box that put man on the moon, but you can’t even put me on a motorway.
For the last two months I’ve been writing posts more or less every day for this little blog that I created on a whim at Christmas.
Also during those last two months I have been going to the day job, which is an 85 mile drive away – so every Monday to Friday, I’ve been exposed to 170 miles of other drivers.
That’s why there are so many posts in here about other drivers and their stupid antics – I could, quite easily, do nothing else but complain about them. In my 170 miles of daily driving, I easily see two or three examples of people who just shouldn’t be on the road – that’s two or three examples every single day.
So I’m letting you know that I will really really try to keep the number of driving related posts down in here – so I can keep complaining about everything else.
Thanks for reading. I enjoy your feedback on my moans.
By the way, just a quick reminder for those who drive on the M25 at night – on an entirely empty motorway, you don’t need to pull onto the motorway from a slip road and move instantly into the middle lane, especially when I’m in that middle lane, trying to pass you (in a constant speed camera zone, which precludes me just zooming past you).
Yes, you did come within six inches of hitting the side of my car, and yes, I may confess that I might have slightly startled you by swerving, beeping and shouting at you from inside my car. I tend to do that when I’m confronted with yet another example of somebody who shouldn’t have a licence.
I know I need this supplement, and the very nature of it means that it needs to be injected, but in my backside? Really? Surely I could have a pill or something?
Ooooh, I can barely sit down. I sound like a pensioner.
How much? 22 quid? To park in a dingy, unlit, filthy, car park that is specked with oil, water of dubious origin and the glass from previous tenants’ cars, who are presumably missing some of their belongings.
You lot are robbing scumbags, and I was simply relieved to find my car not on bricks when I returned to it this morning.
We have evolved into a magnificent species, us human beings, and posess an incredible array of senses, complex nervous systems and brainpower that make us truly the rulers of this great planet.
This example of fantastic biology, however, appears to be not quite as magnificent as others – due to the fact that my sinuses have decided to build their own little collection of mucus and refuse to drain it anywhere. I feel as if my head has been stuffed with cotton wool.
Which is on fire.
I know, dearest feet, that i’ve been standing on you for several hours now and you must be quite tired, but if you could avoid swelling up and hurting for just a few hours more that would be just dandy.
You see, I’m rehearsing a presentation here and the ability to remain standing is pretty important to me right now.
Hey there, fellow M40 driver!
Just three little things I’ve seen that you might want to be aware of…
- You’re driving in the middle lane. Surely you’ve heard by now how much I hate that.
- Somehow, you have managed to have your fog lights on without showing a single headlight. I have no idea how you’ve achieved that, but it’s the wrong way round.
- And last but not least, you have your petrol cap open. How can you not see that in your mirror? Oh, I know, you’re clearly not using mirrors today.
Jesus Christ, how did you get your driving licence?
Although drinking lots of coffee during the day may be considered one way to hydrate, it’s really not doing me much good.
Not if being hydrated translates as “buzzing so much I now can’t concentrate”, that is.
I have personal space.
I have a little space around me that I like to keep for just me, thanks.
When I’m out shopping, standing right behind me is not going to make this queue go faster, and I get to have you bumping up against me all the time – which drives me nuts.