I love driving in my ca…AAAAaaaaargh!!!!

Yesterday afternoon I had the pleasure of driving home from Kent with a hangover, which was nice.

When your eyes feel like they’re being dry humped by deranged badgers, the last thing you want is a bright light shining in them relentlessly.  Does the sun come under the category of ‘bright light’?  Hmm, yes I think it does.

It had been raining earlier in the day and the lovely English weather had meant there wasn’t enough heat to evaporate the wet sheen that was glazing the M20 motorway.  In fact there was less heat than a nice beefy fart from a tired gnat in a snowstorm.

This reflective coating of rainwater coupled with the ‘bright light’ low in the sky had created a mirror effect that had essentially lit up the entire motorway with the full intensity of the sun.  This was causing the badgers to freak out and thrust wildly and erratically.  I basically couldn’t see the road, the cars or even my dashboard.  I didn’t know where I was going or how fast!

I soon discovered I was able to remedy the intensive glare by closing my eyes, which made driving at 70mph (ahem) a little more ‘challenging’ and ‘exciting’.  I say the following not to racially offend or to upset the saladly challenged, but I had to squint my eyes until I resembled a really fat Chinese kid.

Eventually the sun moved a little lower in the sky and the angle of reflection shifted.  Fortunately we could all see the road and cars again.  Unfortunately it was now shining a direct beam into our faces, which was nice.

The badgers were nearing climax.

I smugly reached up and lowered my sun visor only to find it wasn’t quite low enough.  

That’s annoying. 

I then had to sit bolt upright in order to block the piercing rays burning into my skull.  This worked to block the sun and allowed me to see about 3 metres of the road in front of me which, at 70mph (ahem), wasn’t worrying at all.

Soon enough the motorway would have a slight bend and the sun would reposition itself, attempting to attack from another angle.  I lowered the passenger sun visor but it wasn’t enough.  I was now sat bolt upright and leaning to the left.  I looked like I was checking my lipstick in the mirror.

Again, another bend and the sun went in for attack vector delta and the badgers were fast approaching their vinegar strokes.

This time I grinned because I knew I was going to be defended by my faithful rear view mirror.  With a lowered sun visor either side of it, it was unlikely the sun would penetrate that tiny gap between the mirror and the visors in order to hit me right in the eye…..oh wait, no, I was wrong.  It found the 2 inch chink in my armour and was exploiting it to sear my retinas and send the badgers into full lock on.

What were the chances?  No matter which direction the motorway turned, the sun would avoid every single piece of shielding my car could provide.

Somewhere in my head I could sense the faint smell of a post coital cigarette and the flush of a toilet.

fatchkid

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Mothertruckers

I’m not a particularly aggressive driver and I don’t really succumb to road rage, but there are some occasions when I’d love nothing more than to drag someone out of their vehicle and then run them over with it.

Yesterday I was driving from Kent back into West Sussex after a heavy night with some close friends. I was feeling a little delicate to say the least and I just wanted to get home and die.

Anyway, this drive home involved four motorways, one of which was the M26. I quite like the M26 because it has the feel of a dual carriageway and actually has views of the surrounding countryside, as opposed to the trench-like M20 which I’m convinced has a thermal exhaust port at the end of it, no wider than 2 metres.

I hear that’s not much bigger than a womp rat.

Another characteristic of the M26 is the fact that it has 2 lanes rather than the standard 3. This results in one of the most annoying of sins in the history of driving, and makes me wish I’d paid a little extra at the dealership for bonnet mounted machine guns.

Being a vital link between the death star trench of the M20 and the car park known as the M25, the M26 tends to have a lot of lorries on it. This is fine if they’re being driven by conscientious, considerate and intelligent drivers; however, yesterday it seemed these people were having a day of rest and had instead entrusted their multi-wheeled leviathans to complete cretins.

There was a three lorry convoy crawling along in the left lane at a mind-blowing 50 miles per hour, when suddenly the penis driving the lorry at the back decided to speed up to 50.1 miles per hour and overtake. . As a result, this oversized male reproductive organ in a hat had blocked the overtaking lane and a queue had started to form behind him.

During the next torturous 12 minutes it became clear that the other two lorries were also being driven by massive manhoods because neither of them slowed to allow him to pass or get back into the left lane. This meant that more and more cars were building up behind them, weaving left and right at a staggering 50.1mph to get a teasing view of the empty motorway sprawled out ahead.

Eventually the idiot pulled in front of the other two lorries and the traffic could finally pass by. What I found interesting was the fact that every car, without exception, slowed down as they approached the new convoy leader; presumably to congratulate him for a successful overtake by shouting praise out of the window.

The woman in the car in front of me appeared to wave at him quite furiously, so that was nice.