Monthly Archives: August 2013

Now leaving the service station of Arsewittery

Ok you never hear the phrase “I’m looking forward to the service station” or “as civilised as a service station” (unless sarcasm is being deployed) but even so….. every shred of self control I have left was used to avoid killing ignorant twonks and their uncontrolled and hopped up on sugar hell spawn.

A particular shout out to the beamer guy who parked at the first petrol pump, thus completely blocking the second one, filling his knobmobile, then leaving said knobmobile at the pump while he went in to get a coffee and a sandwich made up before paying for his fuel.

I hope you got diesel instead of petrol and I hope your next shite is.a hedgehog……..

Now leaving Worst…Caravan…Site…Ever…!

More on that when I do the full updates!

Elapsed Travel Time: 00:32:17
Km Driven: 1365
Petrol Used: just….no!
Show Tunes Sung: 0
Crap Wedding bands inflicted on us: 2
Fights: 0 with each other,  1 with poxy caravan park people about their crap wedding bands and population of screaming drunken twunts!

Hoping to make it to Anglesey in time to catch sone racing this afternoon!

We are now in Derbyshire

I’m not 100% sure but I think this is a good thing.  I’m fairly impressed by the sheer volume of water that is falling out of a totally clear sky. However, the predicted shower of flat caps and whippets has failed to appear and no elderly lecherous men have tried a wacky scheme within our view.

Apparently everything I have ever seen on TV is wrong……

Stuck in another traffic jam outside Stoke (we think!)

Argh – bank holiday Friday traffic from the Planet Hell!!

Elapsed Travel Time: 00:28:01
Km Driven: 1209
Petrol Used: none – we’re not moving.  At this rate, we’ll die here and remaining petrol can be used to cremate our wizened corpses…
Show Tunes Sung: none – will to live sucking musical tendancies out through my left nostril
Fights: 0 – unless you count the prick in the Alfa trying to cut in front of us

Meanwhile, the siren song of Alton Towers still tinkles gently, trying to persuade us that we really *do* prefer rollercoasters to motorsport.

However, since we’re trapped in the moebius traffic jam of doom, our will is not being tested too severely. ….