I found myself uttering one of them popliar phrases today. As I came up to The Roundabout, Mr 4 Wheel Indestructible Jeep decides to speed past, cut everyone up, and ignore his indicators. As he sped by, I huffed to myself...
"You won't get there any quicker, mate!"
Now, thinking on this, it really is complete bollocks. He's well breaking the speed limit, and he cares not a jot for the wake of destruction he leaves behind, so of course he'll get there quicker!
In fact, by the time I'd gotten round the roundabout, there was only a tiny speck of light in the distance. If he'd been going at a sensible pace (like myself!) he'd've gotten home much later.
And probably not caught his missus being pleasured by the paperboy!
Now, there are those who'll tell you that these speeders always end up at the lights, where you catch up with them, proving they don't get there any quicker. Like arse! They're through the lights, and as soon as you approach 'em, the lights go red, putting you even further behind!
Still, at least you can basque in the knowledge that while you're still only halfway home, he's found his missus being rogered by some young buck, and his life is falling apart. Oh, he berates himself, if only I had stayed within speed limits, then I would have arrived home after the young lad had left, and remained blissfully unaware of my wife's infidelity, and it would be bangers and taters, not a life in tatters.
Me, I'm smug as smug can be, for I have arrived home safe and well, and don't have any chance of being greeted by thrusting buttocks upon my entrance...
...having finished up with his missus earlier than expected (boom boom!).
