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Tuesday 8 May 2007

The Road To Friggin' Beer! (And Other Ways Of Dulling The Pain).

I'm baffled. Could someone out there kindly tell me what the M6 is? Ok, ok, I know, it's supposedly "a motorway" - I phrased the question poorly. What I mean is, what is the M6 "for", exactly?
Before anyone pipes up, it sure as sugar isn't a means of getting from A to B! I hit on the theory some months ago that it was, in fact, an undesignated car park. I have, however, dismissed that idea as there are no shops or other amenities nearby which would render it useful as a place to leave your motor.
Is it, perhaps, an elephants' graveyard for motorists? I'm sure people die on it in their thousands, not in accidents but of depression and boredom waiting to fucking move so much as an inch!
I have to traverse a good stretch of this asphalted piece of smegma every day to get to and from work but this morning the journey notched up a British, Commonwealth and Empire record for Pither. I have to travel 43 miles to work and the run normally takes 90 minutes, the motorway being about as useful as a long stretch of used bog roll. This morning I set off extra early (6.45am) and it was two fucking hours before I got to the wordface. Half of that time - yes, one whole fucking hour - was taken up crawling along a half-mile stretch of dual carriageway which leads onto the M6!!
Why the "extra" delay? - it normally only takes 30 minutes to cover the same massive distance (that, for the non-mathematically-minded, works out at a Donald Cambellesque one-mile-an-hour ON A GOOD DAY!!!) A fucking, bastard, pigging, bloody, wanky, shitty, arse-faced twat of a lorry had broken down on the motorway and so the traffic cops - look in the dictionary and it says "see C for cunts" - closed off one lane of the "superhighway" to cope with this apocalypse! The result? A complete, fucking logjam as far as the eye could see.

If ANYTHING whatsoever happens on a motorway those dickhead traffic cops always solve it by closing down lanes. It's their sodding answer to anything and everything! Can't they shift the offending article to the side of the road and carry out a controlled explosion? Why not shunt the bloody thing off an elevated section? That'd do it! Don't these people carry guns? A pistol up the nostril of some half-arsed trucker would soon get things moving.
What happens when you get to the scene of this supposed breakdown catastrophe? Is there anything there? Is there bollocks! It's like motorway roadworks which cause gridlock. They cone off two of the three lanes and when you get to the actual scene of the "bridge strengthening" or "essential maintenance" work you find some fucking Paddy leaning on a shovel, scratching his bollocks beside a wheelbarrow, sipping tea - and nothing else!!
There is a solution, of course. Create 7-lane superhighways like the Americans have done. So, you have to knock down a few hospitals and care homes for the elderly to make room. Everything has a price.
What is the alternative to this mayhem? Well, we're all, apparently, supposed to think green and use public transport. That's a laugh! In my job I have to go here, there and everywhere. Getting to work alone would take one train and two buses, all of which I would have to pay for myself - yeah, I really want to pay about £8-a-day to go to work and the same to come back to the relative sanity of Pither Towers. I don't live in London so public transport is not an option! Travelling around the country could only be accomplished in sufficient time to meet deadlines by hiring a Learjet! Somehow, I don't think my exes will run to it. Integrated public transport? You're 'avin' a giraffe!
So, thanks to the enigma which is the M6, I finally arrived at work knackered and in the mood the kill someone. Not a good frame of mind when you've got HR breathing down your neck on the next desk - they mark you down on your personal assessment for office gun rampages, you know.
So, I hereby confine the Acme-Joke, road-to-Hell known as the M6 to Grantham - see how they like crawling around on it.

4 comments:

Vicus Scurra said...

I know, I know, my journey to work was tedious as well - I had to stop off on my way from the bedroom to the computer to make some coffee. Took nearly a minute. And what are the government doing about it?

Barry Lawrence said...

Cheers Vicus,

That has really helped. I shall not now kill someone on the way in tomorrow - I shall kill LOTS of people.

Betty said...

Used to undergo the same torture when I was living and commuting in the Midlands. When we have to visit the aged relative in Staffordshire we now avoid it by using the expensive toll road (plus the Dartford Tunnel - perhaps we ought to bill her whenever we visit).

Meanwhile, the M1 widening scheme has meant that it's virtually impossible for anyone to head north and escape from London. Which you would probably say is a good thing.

Barry Lawrence said...

Hi Betty,

At least someone shares, or has shared, my pain.
I would use the Toll Road but......that would mean paying about £30-a-week for the pleasure of getting to work and I, no doubt like you, have this bizarre notion that I have helped pay for a transport network out of my taxes and road fund licence already. Compromising your principles once in a while just to check whether elderly relatives have finally snuffed it and left you something in their will is one thing, paying this Thatcherite tax every working day is another.
Stay in London, chuck, it's safer there - well, apart from the bombs and people with guns and knives, that is.

WEDNESDAY, 21 NOVEMBER 2007

SHORTS DON'T MATTER! 1. From the greatest programme ever made about association football, Barnstoneworth United FC manager Mr Dainty delivers one of the finest English soliloqiues of all time.......and afterwards, spare a thought for the club steward's wife Vera (YOU ONLY HAVE TO WATCH HALF OF THE CLIP!!).

Monday, 12 November 2007

Not everyone who agonises over their life is a painter. Some of us agonise because we're NOT painters.

....And On the Subject of Great Public Services

I know most of you have heard this marvellous song by those doctors who are the Amateur Transplants......but I think the video is a nice addition. P.S. If there are kids in the room I'd shuffle them out before hitting play.

...There's More

On the subject of those great doctors, here is their version of More Than Words which presents their challenging views on women outside Watford. The very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither, coming from Cumbria, is a huge fan. Again, get those kids out of the room!

Leave Britney Alone, Ok!!!

Oh...........my............God!!!!! My heartfelt thanks go to BGT for this. I won't say much more, I don't need to. Mr Loony of Loonytown, USA (I think it's a bloke, anyway), says it all. I fear he may be wound too tight for.....well.....well for everywhere, really!

Tuesday, 18 September 2007.

I wish I'd sung this! For non-Americans, and with apologies to all the smart arses out there who already knew, the FCC is the Federal Communications Commission and it monitors TV and radio output in the States - a sort of broadcast police - while the EPA is the Yanks' so-called Environmental Protection Agency, a body which does exactly the opposite of what it says on the can. (P.S. We went to the same school, you know? Eric and me, that is, not George, Martha, Dick and Condoleeza and me. I don't think they went to school.) P.P.S. Please see below if you are I Like The View, Malc or Doris.

To Make You Laugh and Cry

I was listening to this on a Sunday, the very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither is a Catholic, Tom Lehrer is one of my all-time heroes and this is one of his best.............no other reasons. On a more sombre note (and with thanks to Fish for coming up with this Woman's-Own-passes-the-time-in-the-dentist's-waiting-room nonsense), why not get a computer to tell you that you are a waste of space and your life is a sham of a mockery of a farce? Ok, it's from one of those poxy dating sites but...go on, take the test. You ain't got much to beat!!
This Is My Life, Rated
Life: 4.2
Mind: 4.1
Body: 2.7
Spirit: 8
Friends/Family: 1.6
Love: 0
Finance: 5.9
Take the Rate My Life Quiz
Apparently, in my case, "computer say 'no!'"

I First Saw This When I Was Little - And Loved It! I Hope That Explains a Few Things

Fuck, Fuckety, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

It has been pointed out to me that, particularly for one whose profession is supposedly literary, my language is getting worse. My use of the "F" word is, I am told, far too prevalent and hence loses impact. To those who share this view I suggest you watch the following:

Tony Blair Isn't a Burglar - But If He Was.........

In the spirit of Gustav Holst's Jupiter and Manfred Mann's Earth Band, I feel like raising a smile today. The Big Green Thing alerted me to this and, for no other reason than to raise a smile on an otherwise crap Wednesday, I think it has to be shared. Grantham shall not have him - when he gets out of prison.

Life On The Edge - No Net.

I was wrong when I feared it might be a dull weekend, what with my pals being away, my soon-to-be ex-wife in rehab and only the dogs to play with. How wrong can a man be? This much fun must surely be illegal? Just click to see the japes and hoots I am having! Click again to see how things got REALLy exciting! Tomorrow we're going to chase pigeons.

The Good Old U.S. of A. - Guardians of Freedom and Democracy. Nothing to Be Scared of, Then?

Be honest........

IT'S THE QUIZ OF THE WEEK! JUST SCROLL DOWN AND HIT "FULL QUIZ".