My Life in Car Journeys (Little Ones)

I got in my car, pulled out of my parking spot and I was instantly stuck behind a sheep.

Now, I am a firm believer that the road is not a suitable location for a sheep, I would argue that the mountain or, ideally, a field would be a nonpareil setting for them. But contrary to popular belief, they won't listen. Sheep are the go-to animal when attempting to characterise someone as a mindless follower through the specific use of animal comparison. This sheep was indeed an idiot, and was very slow in yielding right of way to me, daredevilishly slow when considering I had the whirring engine of my fierce Fiesta to assert my dominance with.

I think we should fit cars in rural areas with huge chomping maws with which to butcher wandering animals. I feel this will eventually breed a mistrust of cars in the beasts, and they'll stay out of my way. It would be useful to create a device which can convert lamb into power, as this will offer yet another cheaper and greener alternative to traditional fossil fuel.

More flashing light antics on the way home again, this time a police car had pulled over a large white transit van. This had helpfully played out in a stretch of road where two lanes merge into one, causing confusion and brouhaha. As I drove past my head was filled with the voices of The Trap, cacophonously shrieking "fooching ewwh, ichs thuh fooching filfth!" in grotesquely over-egged Liverpudlian accents. And I was amused.

I also came level with a learner driver at a roundabout, he/she was going straight on, whilst I was turning right. It was a short lived romance however, as I pulled assuredly and safely onto the roundabout, and he/she floundered nervously at the junction. I swelled with a bloated sense of my own road competence, but I have since come to rue the loss of a romance that could have been.

I also saw girls (ACTUAL ONES!) in long socks and short skirts on my drive home, and that really hammered home quiet how much of a lecherous oik I am/can be. I then came home and had a jam sandwich. Mmmm. On both counts.

*****

P.S. TextEdit repeatedly replaced 'oik' with 'irk', which is ironic as I was indeed irked by the end of it, and I feel that automatic correction is an oik, and incredibly detrimental to creative writing. Such as the bit where I phonetically attempted 'Fucking hell, it's the fucking filth!'.

Creative, odd and/or archaic language is hugely important to me. The ladies love archaic language as well. At least those were the particulars bequothed unto mineself.