Baby You Can (Help Me) Park My Car.

Park! the herald angels sing. Glory to the newborn excuse to fucking hog the best spaces.

...and another thing! I may have mentioned before that I hate supermarkets, money-grabbing, out-of-control, all-powerful, manipulative, capitalist bastards that they are. Well, Tescrosebury's and all the others have a policy which has hitherto escaped the wrath of Pither but which further fucks up my life, none the less - them and National Car Parks Ltd.
This piece of PC bollocks dreamed up by these shrink-wrapped retards and pay-on-exit eejuts has left me facing a 12-and-a-half-hour ordeal if I my local shops are closed and I need to stock up on something food-wise. Why? I'll tell you fucking why! "Mother and Child" parking bays, that's why!
They now account for the front rows of every bloody car park associated with supermarkets in this sodding country and so, not being blessed with children myself, I have to drive the three hours down to Devon to pick up my 80-year-old mother and then bring her all the way back up here if I am to stand any chance of getting a decent parking spot. Then, when I've bought the over-processed, "they-must-all-be-exactly-the-same-size", genetically-fucked-up, hermetically-sealed, nutritionless shite which passes for produce at these places, I have to endure another three-hour drag back down south to dump the ageing relative at the home before hauling ass back up to Pither Towers to eat the mass-farmed muck which fucks up my guts anyway but is the only thing available at the time.
What is wrong with this fucking country? It's like disabled parking bays. I happen to work for an outfit which helps disabled people and so I have nothing against this seemingly sensible aid. The trouble is, most of the so-called disabled people I see sprinting away from the cars in these bays and then returning carrying 19 bags of groceries unaided are not, I suspect, disabled at all!
"You're not fooling anyone you know, Mr Knievel."

Either that or the bulk of orange badges handed these days out have such mystical powers that they only bring on disabilities when the owners are going into their local benefits office!
Sod 'em! Parent and Child parking bays shall, henceforth, only be for the folk of Grantham.