Motorway Madness

Back from yet another trip to Southampton. Its getting to the point where the car can probably find its own way there. And Chris Rea claimed the M25 was the road to hell - He's obviously never been on the M3/M27. Anyway that's enough about the road.

Last time I was down in Soton I went into a pub full of the sort of people who think its posh to marry their cousins - like something out of Deliverance - hark is that the sound of a distant banjo? So it was just like being at home then.
My local pub, The Axe & Swastika, is full of cropped haired thugs with bulldog & union jack tattoos - probably the same (ahem) "English Patriots" who voted a BNP counsellor in for Barking & Dagenham. I haven't been in the pub opposite the Axe & Swastika since 1984 - and I think that its unlikely I ever will - took look in - full of the sort of Essex Girls who give Essex a bad name and little boys with what they consider their pimped ride - Now let me tell you lads a stick-on tinted windscreen strip, the name of a hi-fi manufacturer plastered all over the side of the car and the stereo pumping out "Call on Me" does not, in my mind anyway, constitute "pimping", nor for that matter does a rusty ford escort count as a "ride"
A little word now for the ladies who haunt this establishment - Fake tan, bleached blonde highlighted hair with the roots showing, a mini skirt (well more a wide belt) which rides up to show your dubious "charms" to the world when you bend over to pick up your fake designer handbags (£3.99 Romford Market) and shouting obscenities at passing Goths does not make you sexually alluring. Not at all. Not even in my most bizarre fantasies..and believe me they are bizarre. Well I think that's more that you could ever want to know about me. Probably. If not, Hey there Get in Touch. Where have you been all my life? and don't forget the mayonnaise!