"Hello, it's me, I'm lost, where am I?".
That's my helpful way of starting a conversation with someone when I'm driving over to their house via the motorway. I've gotten sick of always ending up on a replacement bus service instead of a train so have started using my new car, a bit.
As a consequence I've spent a lot of my time getting totally lost on motorways. This is in-f#cking-furiating! No one wants to let you out when you're lost and trying to change lanes. Why should they? They're obviously very busy and in an incredible rush. It's important they get there ahead of time. C#nts.
It has led to some interesting conversations with my girlfriend and my Dad, both of whom seem to irrationally get the brunt of the blame when I'm lost: "I'm probably going to die in a horrible accident," or "I may as well sack this off and drive back to Sheffield then".
Stupid words spat out by an impotent fool driving down a motorway, apparently in the middle of nowhere.
I'm sorely tempted to get one of those Sat Nav things but really shouldn't need one. I'll buy one if the comedy thing picks up and I end up driving to obscure locations to make strangers laugh at what a c#nt Jamie Oliver is. Otherwise I'm going to have to settle with my old fashioned road sense.
On top of that, you know what it's like don't you? Motorways are a nightmare aren't they? You know what it's like, you're driving along and there's some old codger infront of you, and they insist on going at 70mph! You flash your lights at them don't you? You beep your horn and sit on their boot. But still they stubbornly refuse to speed up. You know when that happens, do me a favour next time, pack it in you tw#t. That's me infront of you, going at 70mph!
Why? Because that's the f#cking speed limit!