Speed Awareness Course


This morning, I am off to Weston-super-Mare in order to fulfil my obligations concerning a recent plethora (well, two…) 0f Speeding letters.

I will set off in plenty of time, partly because I have been told to report to this local outpost of the Cop Shop fifteen minutes early – but mainly because I now know where the Weston Speed Cameras are sited (having been caught by the same bastard device twice!) and feel it would be invidious, embarrassing and ironic in the extreme if I were snapped up by the system yet again and on my way to serve my punishment to boot!

So I shall be crawling down that road like a sloth afflicted by particularly unpleasant haemorrhoids – and will have to just hope that my passport (for identification; I’m not intending to flee the country to avoid the course!), in which I look uncannily like a serial killer, doesn’t result in some kind of more permanent incarceration!

Hideous start to the week! Still, I did the crime – and must now pay with my time! Must just tell you a wonderful, if dark, little snippet: As I drove a friend to Bristol Airport, at half past arsehole yesterday morning – being very careful to stay within the designated 50mph – an especially egregious wanker (or wankerina, as the case may be) came rattling and roaring up behind me, chuffing and snorting like an enraged bull, and, clearly utterly disenchanted with my sedentary pace, screamed past me, on a bend, at around eighty.

Happens all the time!

Meanwhile, if you haven’t already, do read my musings on deserts (written yesterday) – and I shall report on my sobering vehicular experience later (if allowed out, that is!)…

ZdA6m9I

 

Advertisements

8 thoughts on “Speed Awareness Course

    1. Thanks, Eilis! It was, actually, pretty good – though, somewhat embarrassingly, the first person I bumped into was an ex-pupil! But I learned a lot I had either forgotten or not hoisted on board in the first place – and, if that makes me a better, safer driver, then it was four hours well spent! xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I have here in my possession a scrap of paper. It is old and held together with yellowed strips of what was (once) sticky tape. It’s creased appearance looks more like Nigel Farage after the farewell to Blighty party in Downtown Brussels (shixteen pints of vino tinto an’ shtill standing). It’s my paper driving licence. They can stuff their plastic mugshot credit card (so called due to the amount of governmental funds it contributes) bio metric thingy. I’ll keep my worn, green and stained by a million (sic) trips in the post paper based authority to travel the queens (and anyone else’s) highway. Why?Because it has all my hard earned and payed for speed convictions. Yes all nine I think. Those plus the obligatory speed awareness course (actually I was already aware. Cuntstable) cost me many drinking vouchers. Myself and my various motorcycles have been terrorising the Tarmac for many years at tremendous velocities. Why I once copped three points for doing 36mph! Then 46mph. The most terrible incident was at exactly 41mph on an distant unfamiliar road after I had failed to notice the change to 30 and the camera was set up a couple of hundred yards after! Ha! got what I deserved and payed for the new demerit on my old green and crumply. Yes fast(ish) and proud. Enjoy WSM. I’m off to Glasto with the big girl (R3) for a sedentary coffee…. x

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Wow! Brilliant, Ted. Nine, eh? Makes me feel like a total beginner! Glasto – well, well; I am hoping to move there soon(ish). We might bump into one another there in the autumn. Who knows?! xxx

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s