Houston, we have a problem

Cars are great.

They provide a convenient and comfortable method for personal transportation, carriage of bits and doings in the roomy boot, entertainment even with their CD stereos and the like. Not like buses, buses are shit: full of diseased, retarded scumbags, buses at least triple the A to B journey time.

My car is essential. With a 30 mile commute half the week, there's no way I'd be able to complete the journey within 2 hours and with my sanity intact. Apart from the expense of road tax, insurance and petrol, driving is still the most economical way to do this trip.

...Until it costs me £280 in fucking servicing and bastard repairs the week before tossing Christmas when the road tax is due at the end of the month as fucking well! All the brakes wore down at the same time and all the pads had to be replaced today. Fucking shiting cunting arseholes.


The youth of today
On my drive down to the garage this morning, I passed a number of schoolchildren as they were walking to school. Actually, they don't really walk, do they? They sort of push and pull each other around in circles in a gradual forward motion that's sort of in the direction of their destination. Others skulked, heads down, kicking whatever was under their feet along their paths.

A group of teenage girls strode elegantly along the pavement. They were taking their time, the lessons could wait. It struck me how short their skirts were and I remembered that, apart from the Culture Club/Duran Duran phase of the early 1980s, ALL schoolgirls simply HAVE to have the shortest skirts possible. I didn't because my legs were foul, but my classmates did. What also struck me this morning was how much better the girl in the dark woollen tights looked compared with her friends, who were somewhat cheapened by their leggy displays of flesh.


Christmas wrapping
What a tedious task! I took advantage of being house-bound and got most of my wrapping out of the way. All that time, the ribbons, gift tags, all for something that will be destroyed in a matter of seconds. The bastards can have vouchers in envelopes next year.


Friends reunited
Fuck that. There was a time when I used to be on the register for Friends Reunited. I thought it'd be nice to find out what former schoolmates were up to, perhaps rekindle some old friendships. Looking down the list of names registered for my secondary school, I realised that I hated most of them and wanted nothing to do with them.

I don't know, it seems that there are reasons why people lose touch with each other, but the main one is that they didn't really care that much anyway.

They've just sent me the same e-mail twice! I need to unsubscribe I think.