It is seems that I am not the sanest midget in the cracker factory today and, quite frankly, I don’t intend on being. Saneness is for fools, insanity’s where the money lies! How do I know? Because my car’s broken down again.
In fact, not only did it breakdown, but did so mid-homeward journey, on the high street, in rush hour traffic!!! 20 minutes I spent sitting in a rapidly freezing Rover, hazards blinking, whilst a dirty great queue of increasingly irritated drivers formed behind me as I tried to stop the recorded message at the other end of my phone to stop talking for 2 fucking seconds so I could speak to the AA and ask them very nicely to pick me up, simply by shouting at her, before my mobile’s battery died.
So why the insanity plea? Because, frankly, I haven’t seen any evidence that being sane is in any way better than a big steaming bowl of fruit loops. And as I have to pay out yet more money to the thieving bastards at the garage so that they can tut at my car and giggle as I hand over my debit card for the 14th time this year, I’ve decided that I can’t take it any more and have actually, finally cracked. I did it myself with a really big pair of nut crackers.
As you can see, not a rational bunny at all. Prepare then, oh mortals of this soft and fetid rock we call home, for just a great pile of shit.