National Speed Limit
Some of you may think that the National Speed Limit in the UK is 60mph on a single carriageway, and 70mph on a dual carriageway. Despite this being the supposed rule according to the Highway Code, the reality is rather different. The RNSL [Real National Speed Limit] is in fact "whatever the cunts in front want to do". The decisions taken by those in front are sometimes simply pathetic or selfish, although sometimes drivers are constrained by those around them who dictate the pace of progress. On a single carriageway, a large lorry is in fact supposed to travel at no more than 40mph. This means that despite there being perfect driving conditions, and a good road, it may be that a lorry is the limiting factor. This is almost certainly the case when any overtaking is impossible - a state of affairs often resulting from the driver of the vehicle behind the lorry being unable to overtake, or simply choosing not to whilst occupying space and preventing others from passing him/her. So, a lorry followed by a useless nob will reduce the RNSL to 40mph. Then there is the issue of caravans and motor homes, whose top speed is 'slow'. This means and end result similar to the above. What with useless drivers who insist on maintain 40mph on all road, regardless of the limit, the outcome is that 40mph is the RNSL.
Dual carriageways, you might think, would be better. This is so, to a marginal degree, but there is increased danger for all. Lorries are supposedly allowed to travel at 50mph, although they seem to ignore this and travel normally at 60mph - when they can. I say this because most are limited to 50mph, or 56mph, making their presence on the road a complete nuisance to car drivers for 75% of the time. They often delight in overtaking each other in manoeuvres which take three minutes, as a cunt doing 56mph passes a cunt doing 55mph. The erratic nature of slow vehicles pulling into the fast lane means that the risk of collision is multiplied massively. Try driving on the M42 up to the M1 and you'll experience this shit.
Whitby
From May to September, there ought to be a ban on: dogs, prams, pushchairs and people with a BMI that indicates 'obese' or worse. The streets are simply not big enough for fat cunts with their pets, and two fat kids in a double buggy. Get the bylaw sorted, Whitby Council!
Road Chippings
I am sick of lazy local authorities deciding that resurfacing a road (always belatedly) is a task that involves chucking down a few hundred tonnes of small grey stone chippings and letting cars do the work of making it stick to a thin layer of black glue. The result is that I have to read warning signs about loose chipping, which is pathetic because this is a man-made problem. I am then warned about the possibility of skidding - again, another hazard created by the council - while I chug along at a supposed 20mph! This is the designated speed for us all managing not to skid or ping a passing cunt in the eye with a chipping. It does not prevent cars from getting chipped to fuck, nor does it aid road safety. Then, there's the ludicrous situation where the 20mph speed limit is suggested for the whole week after the last contractor in his hi-vis fucked off. We all know that on day one, that speed might be appropriate, but that by the fifth day, if you slow down to 20mph, a cunt will clump the back of your car with his 4x4 because you're going too slowly. Fucking lazy councils!
Kitchen Devil
No, I am not a 'devil in the kitchen', as I am actually referring to the range of kitchenware that is predominantly sharp. Yes, the knives that have the classic black handle and stainless steel blade. I have a few of these in my kitchen, and in the main they've been purchased from Asda. It so happened that last week I decided (on a flying visit) to pick up a sharpener, which was on offer, and extend the life of my knives. With just a few items, I went to the self service checkout and expected, after five scans, to be leaving the noisy atmosphere. Alas, I had not counted on being subjected to 'Checkpoint Charlie' tactics when trying to but a knife sharpener. The till displayed the annoying news that my attempt at purchasing a small plastic device containing two minute wheels was akin to drug smuggling, and that before being allowed on my way, a plankter with super powers would have to do something to okay the purchase. So, I waited like a death row prisoner for ages, until being attended to by one of the two plankton in the vicinity. As we all know, plankton are incapable of swimming against a current, so I had simply to wait until one came around the circuit to tap the screen.
Why the fuck does a knife sharpener fall into a category that means intervention at the point of sale is necessary. I was not a five-year-old buying glue (nor am I a five-year-old, period) and I'd resisted the urge to pick up some reduced tent pegs from the 'seasonal' aisle - implements that could really do some fucking damage! I know this because you try taking one on to a plane and see how far you get! So, a small plastic device was deemed dangerous. I suspect it was because the coding linked the item to knives even though a wooden spatula is sharper. So, more nanny state cuntism exemplified by Asda. The tin of baked beans sailed through the scanning procedure and made its way to a carrier bag without concern. This 400g lump would of course be rather useful as a weapon. If you disagree, try standing against a wall (as in the stance adopted by the subject in a firing squad) and see how niggled you get when six soldiers throw tins of beans at your head and shins. I think I've suitably demonstrated that beans are dangerous while knife sharpeners are placid things.
The Wanted
I think this band ought to be renamed "The Unwanted" considering their useless lyrics and poor taste. The nauseating recent 'song' was a lesson in how to be more pathetic than the writer of 'Bob The Builder - Can We Fix It?' with:
'She can't sing, she can't dance, but who cares - she walks like Rihanna'
I am frustrated with more unnecessary exposure for Rihanna, who simply needs to hide somewhere for the next 35 years (without her fucking phone/camera and a Twitter account facility). However, I am struggling to understand why her particular version of walking is any different from more than three billion other females. If the only positive thing about Mrs MWSC were her ability to 'walk like Rihanna', then she'd have to go. Let's hope (or not, depending on your viewpoint) that no accident befalls the singer and she acquires a limp, for that would make the single a poor taste record, no? Oops, sorry, it's already in such poor taste that there's no real need to consider any category move in such an instance.
The Great British Bake Off
I am not a great fan, mainly because there are far too many programmes on TV that are obsessed with making food, especially as most people in the UK are more concerned about eating too much of it than making their own. What I was most annoyed about (today) was that I saw amongst the shit that came with yesterday's Daily Mail (alongside the Coopers of Stortford magazine, the Virgin Media flyer and some other shit) a small booklet containing recipes from the new series that's about to start. On the first page, Paul Hollywood referred to "Bezza" and after a second I realised he meant Mary Berry. What a nob - I mean Paul Hollywood, not Mary Berry - and I cannot think of anything so pathetic and inappropriate than trying to label a 78-year-old with this stupid nickname. The only similar approach I've ever encountered is the twattish reference to Andy Murray as "Muzza"; YUK. While I'm at it, shame on you, PH, for dumping your wife and she is probably better off without you.
...
No comments:
Post a Comment