The first few were normal, so I'm fairly sure that these are not supposed to look like this:
Or like this:
Archive for July 2017
Frank Barrett: A Study in Self-Importance
I was polite when I asked him to move it, as it had obstructed me getting in forwards and I was to be reversing out almost straight away.
But he said that he was only going to move it when he was good and ready, maintaining that his car was parked fine and wasn't in the way at all.
I tried to explain again but he was having none of it, he was too self-important, he said that I was in the wrong and that I must wait until he was finished!
And so it all kicked off. I'm nobody's inferior and I don't take that sort of shit from anybody. He'd lit the blue touch-paper.
I'll spare you the details but he was as good at being an offensive idiot as I was at being sure of my rights, which I know inside-out as I have to deal with this sort of malarkey almost every day.
I'm told that he phoned soon after to apologise for how he'd parked his car. But of course he was apologising to my neighbour, not to me.
Stuck-up idiot - can't park properly, can't apologise properly:
See - there was plenty of "safe" vacant space around the Close. There was even space for his car on the driveway of the neighbour who he was visiting.
But currently he's the President of the local bowling club, and apparently that means that he also owns the local roads and is answerable to nobody.
They say that there's no such thing as bad publicity, so...
here he is, showing off his medals:
Let's hope they weren't awarded for parking like a tw@t.
This post will only be taken down after I get a direct apology. A passed-on second-hand apology won't cut it.
Abandon Ship!
It was all going so well until Billy the Fish's younger brother hove into port and decided to moor up and go ashore without due regard:
Weigh anchor!
Or a suitable contraction thereof.
Six of the best
This is the sixth time this year that I've had words with the selfish freelance delivery woman who was driving this car. I don't remember how many times it happened before the start of 2017, but it was a significant number.
The only English word she seems capable of uttering in my presence is "sorry" but she still parks like a tw@t so it's pretty much an empty apology. This time I needed to get my car out to deal with an urgent family matter (carers had called me to attend to my mother-in-law who is seriously ill) and I couldn't keep my temper under control when I found that the freelance fuckwit had blocked me in (again) despite the huge expanse of parking space to her near-side.
I guess she's one of the highly-trained highly-qualified people who, we're told, we have to import from The Continent because we, the Ignored Indigenous, allegedly don't have the requisite skill-set. Well, for the right price, I too could drive/park like a pr1ck, eschew the native language, ignore the rules of the road and not give a flying f*ck who I upset along the way. And no, I'm neither racist nor sexist, I just believe that our road-rules apply to all-comers, there's no exemption policy. When in Rome...
From now on, she should be in no doubt as to the consequences of her self-centred attitude - if she didn't understand my words, my body-language and my gesticulations should have got the message across:
Pokéd
Go on, tell me that it doesn't look like a Pokémon character being rogered by a somewhat surprised wall-socket:
