Arrivederci! For now.

There’s been a crash. Accidental or incidental I don’t know. The once open road is now crammed with HGV’s, promiscuously moving along. The blame must go to a woman. It’s not just a cliché about the way women drive; it’s a FACT. Life experiences, the past, present and guaranteed in the future.

My mum crashed my dad’s van in to a ditch. My Sister failed her driving test 8 times. My cousin failed her theory test 10 times. My girlfriend doesn’t drive and her sister and mum are not best drivers out there.

I find myself involuntary added to a game of snake, I’m not in control, I’m a very small part of the snake, somewhere trapped in the middle. The person tapping away has smashed the record. The queue goes further then my eyes can see; I look behind, seems like the front; some wicked illusion or acid trip.

My bladder becomes cramped, narrow; I need to pee. As a rule, men pull over without hesitation and empty with ease; no stage, no audience, like Pauls loo.

I move forward, a couple of inches, a cough.

Jealously is in the air, the opposite side is clear, empty, tarmac waiting to be touched.

Bladder tightens, I’m almost dribbling.

After an hour or so, I finally creep past the problem, a woman, crying, shrivelled, being comforted by a MAN; policeman. Her car, crushed, retired, forced into a brick wall on the side of the A1. Clever Cunt.

This is just one of many things in life that makes me seriously want to leave the country to seek a stress free environment. Where? I’m not sure yet but only time, experience and mistakes will tell.

Tomorrow I’ll be testing out Venice. No cars, no traffic jams, no fucking women drivers! Sounds delightful. I’ll be back over the weekend, but for now arrivederci.

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