Usually I only post here when I am off on my travels to various destinations but perhaps I can stretch 'travels' to mean 'driving' today. Driving gives much opportunity for inappropriate thoughts, often of the 'What the hell is that driver doing!' variety and my vocal rage at other, less able, drivers is well known to people who share confined space with me in Tuppence.* However, this morning two thoughts struck me on the way into the office, or Dead Russian Central as I like to call it, which were inappropriate on a different level.
I was stopped at traffic lights on Market Street with a cement lorry in front of me and the car in the next lane was behind a car transporter. I mused that if the car transporter had failed to adequately secure the rearmost car on the top deck and it rolled backwards and dropped onto the car beside me the driver would most likely be killed. I then thought that if the cement lorry were to open the back hatch and drop its load of cement on me, then my chances of living to tell the tale might also be limited. I was so amused by these thoughts that I actually LOLled. I would therefore like to take this opportunity to advise all my dear friends that should I die in a freak accident please be assured that I would have found it immensely funny and you are free to point and laugh at my coffin in which ever FUNeral setting I finally decide on.
The second inappropriate thought was much less interesting but nevertheless made me chuckle. Isn't it funny to see cop cars stall? No? I was amused.
*Yes, my car has a name. All cars deserve a name and if you haven't named yours yet, do so now!
