I’m a positive person. No, I am really. But you know what, every now and then I need a bloody good whinge. And damn it, it’s my blog so I’m having one, right here! I’m throwing my toys out of the cot, baby!
And my whinge-de-jour is about bloody
My number one gripe on the roads of BrisVegas. Trucks! Humungous dinosaurs rumbling on our Australian highways. Mack trucks are big ugly beasts whose grills fill up the entire rearview mirror as they loom behind your car like angry bulls in a field, snorting through their noses before they rush and gorge the unsuspecting rambler. The drivers behind their wheels have the driving skills of a 3 year old. This is how I imagine an interview for a truck driver in
Manager of fuel company (truck division): So Mr X, what truck driving skills do you have?
Mr X: Well as a child I owned a tonka truck and I used to drive it over my toy cars, and make a “pcchooow!” noise. And I used to ram it into the legs of my mother’s good dining room chairs, and you know, scratch ‘em up a bit.
Manager: That’s fantastic! In fact you are over qualified. Here’s the keys to one of our massive trucks filled with thousands of litres of highly flammable liquid gas. We trust you will drive at least 20 kms over the recommended driving limits, even more on the open highway, terrify the life out of other drivers by roaring up behind them and sitting on their bumper, squish the life of Australian’s native wildlife under your wheels, jackknife and swerve dangerously into other lanes of traffic wiping out as much human life as possible, and just generally create havoc on Brisbane’s highways.
Mr X: Bloody oath, mate.
Speeding isn’t the least of it. I wasn’t kidding about the jackknife. I drive through one of
And to the bloody f^%$wit truck driver who nearly slammed me into the side of the