Motorway Madness

In total yesterday a massive, mind-bending 11 hours spent on the fucking motorway!

If any of you have ever experienced Britain's motorways, and I'm sure Chica and June know a little about them, you will realise that they are evil personified. If they were a person they would be Mariah Carey. If they were a food they would be lumpy, cold custard.

Rocker's knee and the steering column.

On the M25 it was pretty much business as usual, they don't call it the 'world's largest carpark' for nothing. But the M frickin' 1! Accident after accident after accident. We were bumper to bumper practically the whole way.

Car window with a view.

While Rocker and I decided the best way to relieve boredom - stabbing ourselves in the eyes or chewing off our own limbs? (which is so last season) - the cars gently bumbled along for hours and hours and hours. Even the jolly rambling of Radio 4 couldn't relieve the pain.

Share the pain.

I swear, if you look close enough into my eyes in this picture you can see tumble weed blowing through my mind...

When you start considering becoming a poet because some bloke on the Terry Wogan (or a poor imitation) radio show is one and then start to write said poem in your head, you know you are in trouble.

You start to think maybe everything in life will be ok, because I'm going to be a poet and poet's never seem to struggle do they? They get to wear cravats and get invited to interesting, 'arty' parties and are just very intelligent and wry simply because they are poets after all.

Then you catch a sight of yourself in the refelection of the window and you think, 'fuck that' and shudder to think how close you just came to announcing to the world and their cat, that you are now a poet and wish to be taken very seriously, please.

Well, that was my day yesterday.

Needless to say we got to our destination, rainy Derbyshire, picked up the kids, made small talk with ex-wifey, got fish 'n' chips (which, I must mention were massive and inexpensive compared to the ones you get down here in the South. I fed the family for just 8 quid. Bargain) and got straight back on the road.

Which thankfully was clear and we got home within 4 hours.

Then we watched a bit of Jaws 2 and went to bed.

The End.

Fin.