Driving Me Car-razy

Just as I was pulling up outside my flat, clearly reversing, some idiots in a mini decided they would try and get through the tiny gap left on my road by driving through it at top speed. They clearly had no idea of space, or the dimensions of their car, as they raced through and scraped the whole driver’s side of mine. Now I did see them coming up in my mirror, but I assumed, as there was no space they wouldn’t go for it. I assumed wrong. Hearing the sound that is 4th on the list of worst sounds you could ever hear (3rd – the sound of someone else’s bones breaking, 2nd – the sound of your bones breaking, 1st – the sound of a zombie in a dark house that you’re in), I stopped the car and got out. They then stopped and got out. The criminals (which is what the police have since told me they are, I wasn’t as quick to call names) were three teenage girls. I expected large thugs or at least pirates with eye-patches which would explain the inability to judge the distance and gap. Three giggly teenage girls, who realising I wasn’t happy, checked their own flash black mini and saw they had only scraped the bumper. One of them laughed and said, ‘not to worry, I needed to replace it anyway’, before looking at the scrape on my car and saying ‘it’ll wash off’. I said ‘wait one second so I can pull my car into the space’, because I am an idiot and believe in trust between human beings. As I did, they all leaped back in the car and fucked off. Now the more astute of you would have wondered why I didn’t get the details first, but we were already holding up other traffic and there was adequate road space. And I am naive and a stupid stupid fool. Still got their licence plate number, called the police and now they are criminals. Lets so how they survive in Holloway prison. Not very well I can assure you.

Its been a morning of car issues. When the ‘incident’ happened, I was returning from the garage where I was having my car’s headlights fixed. I’m rather bad at car stuff. In theory I can change a tyre, but I’ve never had to, so when the day arrives I’m sure I’ll just cry a bit then call the RAC. Changing the lightbulbs in the headlights was one of the few easy things I was capable of doing, but in VW Polos they have some special way of being taken out or they just break and stab you in the hand with glass. I don’t like being stabbed in the hand with glass. So instead I have to meekishly go to the garage where they fix the bulbs and give me stares that say ‘you are not a man.’ Luckily they then realised it wasn’t just the bulbs but all sorts of other problems and they respected me again. Either that or it was all part of a ruse to make me spend more money because I didn’t understand what they said. I wonder if Knight Rider ever had such issues. I bet KITT would’ve just pointed out what was wrong so he could’ve strolled in there with all the right info. Still all fixed now, and I have working headlights and a big fucking scrape on the side of the car. Grand.

Two shows tonight. A preview in Brixton which should be fun, then at 1.30am, the Cambridge University Ball, which probably will not be fun. Its a black tie event so I’ve been told to dress smart. This to me, means wear my blue trainers, not the white ones. And don’t wear the jeans with the hole in the knee. I have a feeling they may not let me in. Last night’s Fat Tuesday was bloody good. I was terrified we would have no audience but ended up with a great sized crowd who were all lovely. Both Andrew O’Neill’s and Paul Foot’s shows were ace, and once again I’d recommend seeing them both in Edinburgh when they are even acer.

I must end the blog here as I have to go and make sure I get some girls sent to prison.

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