Josh’s Blog

That’s it.  I’ve had it.  There are far too many cocks on Britain’s roads today driving those stupid, ugly, coffin look a like automobiles the Germans throw at us each year: the Audi A3.  I really have had enough of the people that drive them.

I should make clear at this point that it’s not the car I have an issue with, I’m sure it’s a perfectly reasonable “entry level luxury car”, just like a meal from McDonald’s is a perfectly reasonable excuse for food.

A3 drivers are stupid.  They don’t know what the point or purpose of indicators are, they refuse to understand that the objective of a motorway isn’t to get as close to the person in front of you as is physically possible and they furthermore reject the idea that they don’t have priority over any other piece of traffic they so choose.  Blithering idiot comes to my mind, but I fear that would be offensive to any monkey, terrorist or Birmingham person the title is deservedly given to.

Moreover I feel their unintelligence is only demonstrated by the fact as to what they’re paying.  Let’s take the 2.0 FSI model for an example.  It’s the most popular one so therefore it’s the one thats likely to think they can get up your exhaust pipe at 110 MPH while sat on their mobile phone and fornicating themselves with bolt guns.  So, the model in question costs approximately £22,000 which makes it sort of middle of the range, average sort of A3 for the money.  Why on earth would you spend £22,000 on something that really does look like an aerodynamic hurse?

Some might question me here and say that 22 grand is alright money for the car you get, with all the extras that Audi choose to throw in with their stool of German-ness, but, let’s look at it like this: it’s either 22 grand to ruin your social integrity every time you drive it, or you could spend the money on American hard gums and let your teeth rot.

Bring on the cavities, please.

Audi claim that their A3 boasts a “better quality interior”, but a better quality interior than what exactly? Baghdad? Tesco? Jade Goody?  I’ve had the misfortune of being sat in an A3 (with a balaclava on of course) and they’re really nothing special, in fact it suddenly lead me to think “gosh, the pound shop even sell car fittings now”.

The worst thing you might buy an A3 for, of course, is the fact that they boast the car has “lower C02 emissions” which, of course, you would only care about if you happen to support Stalin at Number 10 at the moment.  If you believe the emissions you produce should be reduced, do the Western world a favour and kill yourself.

All this is shocking reading, of course, but the worst part is that according to Audi themselves, in 2006 they delivered 905,100 cars world wide.  Terrible.  They claim the USA to be their biggest export closely followed by the UK, but considering the population and size difference between the UK and USA, it means we probably have the highest pollution of Audi’s anywhere in the world.  I’m sorry to have to deliver this news, but it should be known.

If you divide 905100 by the four main cars Audi produced in 2006: A3, A4, A6 and A8 you get 226,275 which means that roughly 225000 people in this world drive A3’s.  Meaning we have almost a quarter of a million super cocks in this world.  These aren’t either the sort of people we might like to hate: bankers, politicians and drug dealers as they all listened better at school and earn more money.  A3 drivers, then, are average people with the ’super cock’ gene: they’re total prats.

I think the time has come to get some bumper stickers printed, warning off these people.

Together we shall unite, and slay the evil vampire culture of A3ists.

This week I was given the unfortunate task of having to drive from where I’m based, Warwick, to a place in the centre of Birmingham.  The route is a simple one and, on paperat least , it would appear to be quite pleasant; three motorways, a dual carriageway and then a couple of inner city roads.  The actual trip is something far from the pleasant imagination of open motorways.

Firstly, I had to join the M40 at Warwick which unless you suffer from a very serious condition of being a carrot isn’t that difficult.  After joining the M40 at junction 14 you’re expected to sit at 50MPH through the SPECS style speed cameras.  They’re Gordon’s latest cash cow get rich quick scheme tofleece the motorist, they basically take one picture of you as you pass the first camera, irrespective of your speed, then another as you pass the second.  They then see how long it took you to drive the set distance and from that calculate your average speed, if it exceeds the prescribed limit in this case of 50MPH, you’re going to get a Fixed Penalty Notice fromWarwickshire County Scam-cil.

These SPECS are put there to protect workmen from an extra 20MPH of speed.  I mean, come on, if you hit a workman at 50 he’s as dead as he is at 70.  In actual fact if you do hit him at 70, he’ll be dead quicker and therefore eases his suffering, so I don’t see a need for these cameras at all.  More to the point, however, I made this journey at 7pm, and we all know roadworkists work from 11am until about 11:15, when it’s time for their first of many lunch breaks and then clock off at about 3.  It’s just sheer, unadulterated profiteering there is absolutely no requirement for these cameras, they haven’t even got a lane closed.

Oh, and between me and you, if you switch lanes between the SPECS for example, you pass the first camera in the third lane and the second in the first lane, they’re unable to give you a ticket.  A mini flaw in the system that even the manufacturer acknowledges.

Anyway, once the SPECS are no more, you can resume motorway speeds.  My journey subsequently lead me onto the M42, which means not only do you have to contend with huge traffic levels, you also have to deal with the worst sort of people in the world:Birminghamers.

The device I have on my dashboad that alerts me to speed cameras went absolutely nuts when I drove between where the M40 meets the M42 and where that meets the M6.  As soon as one alert was over I would get a fresh one, and because the genius people who designed the new version of this road have introduced variable speed limits, you simply can’t do anything about it but sit on a motorway at 30MPH, for God’s sake.

The M6 was identical to the M40 - SPECS all the way and a stupidly imposed limit of 50 MPH.  For what, I hear you ask?  Bloody roadworks that were occupying a small section of the hard shoulder.  It really is beyond a joke, the people who are in charge of roadworks obviously believe they have such a great amount of importance they feel it necessary to disturb everyoneelse’s travels, even at nearly 8 o’clock of an evening.  I imagine these people to be very short, bearded like Father Christmas, have one leg shorter than the other and be married to a man named Florence.

After escaping the cash cow fields of the M40, M42 and M6 I found myself in downtown Basra, I mean Birmingham, for which I can use no other word to describe the place: appauling.  It really was, nearly every other car had a brake light out, or a wheel missing, or the driver was missing some vital component and bleeding to death.

When I reached my destination a woman the size of a whale stepped out in front of my car, obviously she’d been drinking like a fish but all she seemed to be able to slur in her Birmingham accent was “surry maaate”.  To think this place wanted to be European capital of culture.  I can imagine the judges asking the Birmingham representatives: “so what culture does Birmingham posses?” and after a few minutes of thinking, they reply “well, we’re the only city that can guarantee that the person walking behind you is either a rapist, a drunk, a mugger, a stabber, a shooter, a paedophile or a vicar”.  How awful.

My route home was taken through some back roads with no speed cameras what so ever, even though it did burn more fuel I really don’t care.  I’m sane, not green.

In 1997 Lamborghini was sold to Audi.  On the surface, it seemed like a good idea to mix a bit of the German common sense and reliability with the Italian passion and sheer madness.  In recent times, and below the surface it seems not only to have been a bad idea, but possibly the downfall of the greatest supercar maker ever.

I’m not going to try and hide my bias here either: the Diablo is my favourite car ever.  It always will be no matter what anyone brings out ever.  Put in perspective; I would rather spend the night with a Diablo than I would Pamela Anderson.  The Diablo, in my eyes, is God and is so much better than my wildest dreams.  At this point I must excuse the school boy style rantings, but that’s the whole point of a supercar, isn’t it - to make you feel five again.

Lamborghini’s of late have been, frankly, dull.  The Gallardo is more of a Ferrari 360 than a Lamborghini, it even lacks “special” doors, they’re no different to those found on a Fiat Punto, or even a conservatory and looks no more sensational than a lobster.  While the Gallardo does boast some quite good performance specifications, it’s been spoiled by what some may see as a good thig: common sense.

The interior is well laid out, the parts fit together, you won’t have enough debris at the end of a journey to hold a car boot sale and the air conditioning is more of a cyclone than an asthmatic duck blowing down a straw.  Why oh why must they have made a car that’s good?  You even have room for your legs and arms should you be above average height.

With Lamborghini of new summed it, it’s time to remind ourselves why it is exactly that Lamborghini have hit the fan like the proverbial droppings.

The answer is quite simple really.  The new Audi R8 is nothing more than a cheaper Gallardo with an Audi badge, and the Gallardo was never anything more than a super-duper Audi TT, which was never more than a rich hairdressers transport, or as I reffer to them: “Tonka Toys”.

So, there you have it.  Lamborghini of new is nothing more than what Audi have been putting in their TT’s since whenever that dreadful day was that the Tonka Toy invaded Britain’s roads.  Well, not quite - the thing is, Lamborghini started off making something Audi drivers will have a good feeling of: tractors.  If you know of an Audi A3, then you’re well educated with regards to farm equipment, the only difference is the A3 was for posh farmers, perhaps ones that the EU can’t put quota’s on.

Lamborghini, on the other hand, made the rough and ready vehicle with a gear box you needed to be a body builder to operate.  It’s not, therefore, that Lamborghini have become bad cars, it’s just they’ve lost the essence through the mutiliation of the Germans and their common sense.

The good thing is that the price of a Diablo is nothing compared to what you might pay for the Audi trash you have to buy brand new.  You can get a good Diablo VT for £60,000 which may seem like a lot of money, but it’s either a Diablo or a new Jaguar XJR or a fairly basic BMW 7 series.  If you’re looking for something with an engine as big as the Diablo, you can get a good Bentley (an oxymoron, I know) for 60K and they have 6.75 litre engines.  Let’s face it though, if you have sixty grand in your pocket and you choose anything other than a Diablo, you’re obviously from Greenpeace and you should spend the money finding out how to turn your farts into a drink, so you can reduce methane in this world, which is obviously very important.

With Comrade Brown forever going on about how he’s “saving the world” from the financial situation as it is, and car salesmen dangling from a rope on the big BMW badge on their forecourt, I think it’s time to face the music and concede things have got pretty bad.

This has become ever more evident with a recent competition unveiled by one of the biggest names in used car sales.  They are offering readers and customers the chance, and I kid you not, the chance to win a Vauxhall Insignia for a year.  Not only have they become so potless they’re giving away a Vauxhall, they’re only letting you ‘win’ it for a year.  So not only will you have the shame of driving around in Vauxhall’s replacement for the car who’s name should be a swear word: the Vectra, you’ll also not be able to smash it into something, because at the end of the year a man with a low-loader will come and take it from you.

Maybe if Vauxhall offered this as a service with all their cars the credit crunch wouldn’t seem so bad for them, and their salesmen could afford to buy from M&S this Christmas.

Now, you may assume that this is just Josh being mean about a hard working, good old fashioned car maker.  Possibly it is.  I’m more willing to suggest it’s because I saw the Insignia before it’s release; back at the 2008 London Motorshow.

I sat in the car for a good few minutes, taking in everything there was to take in about the car.  The main thing that struck me was the fact that there seemed to be no point to this car.  It had the feel of the early 2000’s Audi A4, the interior was one of the worst on a ‘luxury’ car I’d ever seen.  It was worse more so than that of the Volvo V40 which really did look like it had been put together by a three year old and a blind dog.

After a few seconds of looking around the interior, it struck me that the entire thing had been build from core components from ‘Poundland’ and material that could have been found on some dish cloth in Tesco’s and for some reason it had the smell of methane.  Rolls obviously take their leather from the cow’s neck, Vauxhall obviously head a bit further aft for their hydes.  I suppose the main thing about the inside of the car was that it felt very cheap and tacky, it was almost like making someone a prawn cocktail that uses eels and vinegar as a substitute.

The outside of the car, sadly, is no more of a positive story than news your wife has HIV.  It really is bad, it reminds me somewhat of the styling on the BMW 5 series, and the latest 3 series.  Only worse.  Much worse.  There is a shape to it, but then again there was a shape to Barry White and let’s face it, he wasn’t a particularly good looking chap.  The Vauxhall badge isn’t that apparent when you look at the car and I think it’s only more evidence that Vauxhall are trying to loose the image cast upon them like shackles on a pirate created by the V-word, but perhaps not being able to see the fact the car tailgating you is a Vauxhall might lead to one or two less depression relation suicides in this country every century or so.

The good points to the car can be summarised rather quickly.  It’s spacious, that’s for sure and you’ll comfortably be able to transport three adults with you.

As I said, summarised very quickly.  So back to bashing this Euro trash:

The driving position is less than optimal and visibility is restricted quite heavily by the awful dashboard and if you’re more than three feet tall the struts of the chassis which run up the side of the windscreen like on every car will get in your field of view if you try to look anywhere other than straight ahead or at right angles, unlike most other cars.

I couldn’t help thinking that if you want a reasonably priced family, good sized car, why on earth would you pass the Ford dealership and not get a Mondeo.  Like the Insignia, the Mondeo is available as an estate or regular saloon.  The Ford will be cheaper to run, more reliable and generally better to drive.

If you’re buying the Insignia because you think the 2.8 V6 engine is fast, then one of two things is the problem: one, you’ve obviously never heard of the Ford alternative, and, two: you woke up this morning thinking you were an orange.

I’ll give credit where it’s due here and be bold and say the Insignia is better than the Vectra, but it’s still much like saying “congratulations you’ve only caught syphilis - the best of all sexually transmitted infections”, I predict these cars won’t sell too well.  Partly due to the fact the market is none existent at the moment and partly because the competition and it’s rivals are so much better at what this car is for: a comfortable, more upmarket family car.

Sorry my first post in a few weeks had to be about a Vauxhall, their competition did make me chuckle though and with times as they are, I suppose that’s got to be a silver lining.

Until next time, then;

Josh

In an extreme dose of boredom I was searching around the Internet for various bits and pieces about supercars.  I stumbled upon one website that was all about supercars (you shall remain nameless), it must be a fairly popular one as it was displayed in the top three of several searches I did via Google.

Anyway, after deciding to venture down one of the cyberlinks I ended up on a website that for the most part atleast looked like it was run by a man, or some men who knew overly geeky details about cars.  I suppose these chaps could have told you the serial number off the engine block of your Ford Cortina simply by looking at one of the stitches on the seat.

So, we’ve established that these people knew what they were talking about.  As my boredom deepened, I found a survey about supercars, so I decided to take part.

The questions started off to be very reasonable, asking things such as “what do you consider to be the best looking supercar ever made?” and the list of options comprised of things such as the Ferrari 250 GTO and the Lamborghini Diablo, a personal favourite of mine.  Then, there were the utterly stupid suggestions such as the Buggati Veyron which, from a side perspective atleast, looks like a fancy toaster from John Lewis’.

Down and down the questions went, until eventually I completed the survey and got presented with the results of other people who had taken the interview too.

I was literally appalled by the fact that something like 19% of respondents had said that “value for money” is important in a supercar!

Yeah, right.  You’ll tell me global warming is true next.

Seriously though, 19% of people who know something about cars said that a supercar should posess value for money.  I would challenge anyone who says a supercar should be reasonably priced with a simple question: “did you forget your meds this morning?”.

The whole point of a supercar is the fact that it’s the thing you hung on a poster in your bedroom when you were six.  It’s the car of your ultimate fantasy.  It’s supposed to make you feel like a little boy everytime you see it and that you need a new set of underwear everytime you hear it roar.  It’s meant to be out of this world, it’s just not meant to be ordinary.  We had Superman and in due process we have super cars, I doubt you could hire Superman for a few hours if you were the middle management type for £10 an hour, could you?

No you bloody well couldn’t, so forget it and go back to working for BT.  We may well have a credit crunch, but that by no means justifies making a supercar anymore feasible for those that couldn’t possibly get one in the first place.

It’s very sad that by some, atleast, the good old supercars are held in no more of a higher regard than a Seat Ibiza or a BMW 3 Series.  That’s what England lacks more than anything at the moment, the ability to still have some distinction, stop buying out banks and perhaps get a grip on things.

For now atleast, the true petrolhead will be able to smile at the fact that nearly everyone in the civilised world knows that the Bugatti Veyron is the fastest production car in the world and that it carries a price tag of £910,000, let’s see you buy one of them, Mr Debenhams Manager.

England’s first motorway, it runs from London to Leeds and is a major North-South motorway through England.  It connects to many other motorways and is used by many people every single day.  Every single one of them are blithering, cabbage smelling idiots.  Every single one of them, and I’m pretty sure about this, wakes up in the morning and, for a few seconds at least, is confused as to whether they’re human or perhaps tomato.

Firstly, there’s the sheer number of cars that sit in the left hand lane and insist on doing 47 MPH, meaning not only are they being incredibly dangerous, they also cause HGV’s to overtake them in the middle lane, meaning theres only one lane left for the rest of us.  In Josh’s Britain, however, this would be dealt with by those useless Highways Agency officers simply shooting the drivers in the back of the head, then pushing their cars down an embankment for a farmer to sell for scrap.  It’s not me just being a speed freak, but under normal circumstances there are absolutely no reasons whatsoever that makes it acceptable for a car to be travelling at 50 MPH on an unrestricted motorway.

The next thing you get are the dicks in the Audi’s and the dollys (young female, usually blonde and driving a car the size of a sugar cube) sitting in the middle lane.

Why?  Why on earth sit in the middle lane?  I’m not on about sitting in the middle lane when there’s a lorry a mile ahead so they know they’ll have to move out at some point, but a totally clear lane for as far as the eye can see.

I was driving back up the M1 this weekend and on the Matrix was a sign that read “Don’t hog the middle lane” - probably the first intelligent thing I’ve seen from the highways agency and at that exact point, I kid you not, I saw a “dolly”.  So, you’re thinking, Josh flipped her off and that was that.

Well, not quite.  I pulled along side her, got her attention and pointed to the Matrix sign.  Being blonde it took her a few minutes to click on to what I was getting at, then after her brain had melted several times and was in the process of evaporating, she did something miraculous: she understood and moved over to the left hand lane.  I was gobsmacked.

So, what I suggest the intelligent motorist does is invest in a sign that reads “don’t hog the middle lane” that you can flash at the dick in the Audi, or even the average dolly and they will understand.  It looks like the Highways Agency finally made something even the most primitive members of society can understand.  It’s fantastic.

Apart from Highway officers shooting the idiots that do 50 in the head, they should also shoot those fools that use their brakes.  There is absolutely no reason whatsoever to use the breaks of your car under normal circumstances when driving on a motorway.  It infruiates me beyond belief, if you’d been paying attention and had read the motorway properly instead of how you’re going to fondle your goat, it might not ruin it for the rest of us.

The other main problem, of course, are the police officers that patrol it.  The main traffic unit presence between Luton and Coventry belongs to my least favourite of all the police forces.  Yes, those blaspheming trolls at Northamptonshire’s constabulary.  But I’m afraid that’s another story.

Sorry Nikki.

Hello and yes, I realise it’s been a while but something else has taken my attention away from my ranting and general ignorance that I display on this blog.  Fortunately for those of you that are in fact fans of my opinion, Geoff Hoon, or the “Goon” as I lovingly refer to him, has made a nice little announcement that makes me feel compelled to write.

He has announced that fixed, traditional, speed cameras may be scrapped.  Fantastic, finally a minister within the government of Stalin who might finally have some sense and realise that fleecing the average motorist for even more money for doing a few miles per hour over a stupid limit in the first place might be slightly wrong and may potentially cost them an election.  I suppose when you’re Scottish, have ruined an economy and no one likes you, one can only summarise that said leader might get his kicks out of generally annoying the public.

However, it stands to reason that a government which has persistently given us bad news over the past couple of years is going to double back on this glimer of hope by dealing us with the unmistakable stench of a ‘but’.  Here it is: instead of the normal fixed cameras, the average GATSO or Truvelo unit, the government intend to introduce the new average speed gates, the ones that time you between two points and take an average speed.  SPECS, as the geeks amongst us would refer to them.  Bastards, as 99% of the British population would refer to them.

The 1%, of course, being the government and old ladies who throw cats at children.

Their excuse for the initial introduction of speed cameras, of course, was that they were to promote safety and by no means in anyway trying to catch out Joe Bloggs for accidentally straying above the speed limit and then taking away a quarter of his driving license, as well as sixty of his pounds.  Their excuse this time is what every moron in the developed world uses: it’s green.  In typical Brown style, he’s managed to try and swindle more of your money by saying it’s for the greater good of the planet.

I think this is more, only, of a case for him to be sectioned, in the current economical situation all the man can think of is how to steal more money, and then use a pathetic excuse to disguise it.  Moreover, it’s something that isn’t even happening, but that’s another story, isn’t it?

Furthermore, I’ll counteract any government claim that it’s more economical to stay at the same speed for longer because it just won’t work.  My example comes from the recently erected SPECS on the M40, just past junction 15.  Due to “roadworks” that I’ve never seen any evidence of, the Highways Agency deems it necessary to limit traffic down to 50MPH.  I challenge anyone to drive down there at a peak hour and be able to stick to 50, naturally, because of the Goon cameras, you can’t simply floor it past an rolling roadblock (two HGV’s taking up the left and middle lane), you all have to squeeze into the right hand lane, and because the bozo in the Audi has no grasp of his accelerator, you’ll be crawling through at 43, with the car behind you doing 42 and so on.  It’s pathetic, and more to the point, isn’t green at all because you do use more fuel in the process of slowing down to go through the time gate, because let’s face it: you’re going to panic if you find yourself doing 2MPH over and slow down 10MPH below.  Most motorists are too preoccupied to calculate the distance they need to do 48MPH for if they do 52MPH for a quarter of a mile in a mile gate.  Not to mention too stupid.

It really is beyond me that they’re going to spend more of our money on something even more pointless, just to make more money.

Here’s a hint for you Stalin: stop lending money to Mr Barclays and Mr Lloyds, and that way you won’t have to mug the average motorist of their money.  How very dare you?

Today we saw the blithering idiot leader of the Tory party standing up at their confrence to deliver his speach.  Naturally, you understand, the main purpose of the speach was to convince the uneducated that he is so much better than Stalin Brown and that he can fix the stool the size of Vanessa Feltz we find ourselves in at the moment.

So the majority of the British public will go out on the next election, vote for Cameron and we’ll find ourselves moving to the left wing and worrying about eco-confrences and start to see a lack of aircraft in the sky because David has an obsession with “big, fast trains”.

I’m going to admit here that I am a Tory, well, I was a Tory.  I supported Howard at the last election and despite Cameron being an Eaton moron fussing about the amount of carbon dioxide im producing, I was prepared to support him at this one.

As it stands, however, I’m going to keep my cynical, over opinionated mouth shut on election day because I refuse to vote Tory, I refuse to vote Labour unless they sort themselves out and I deffinatley will not waste a vote on the LIberal Demomorons.  This is a shame in a democractic society.  We’re supposed to have the freedom of speach we went into Iraq and liberated the Iraqi people from a lack of, yet, here I am paying taxes galore and I won’t be able to go down to a voting station at the next election and get someone slightly more right-wing who believes that family issues such as soaring fuel and food bills take not just importance but total focus from all this global greenhouse eco nonsense the likes of Al Gore, Cameron and Brown ram through the minds of the average person.

So, I hear you asking, what can we do?  Well, whatever happens Brown needs to be removed from office and then sectioned under the mental health act.  David Cameron needs to fall off his bike and the sensible portion of this nation needs to stand up and say something for itself.  We’re being walked over by these people, we’re being told to think that environmental issues are so important that if we don’t vote for them the planet will melt like Gary Glitter in a nursery.

I propose this to you: how about a government that cares not for whether a car uses more petrol to start up than a hybrid toaster and one that is more worried with the effects of that old ruin we called an “economy” and the lower income familes who struggle on a month by month basis due to the UK being a cash machine for the rest of europe and any hippy that wants to write a pretty poster and stick it at the end of runway 27R at Heathrow.

The worrying thing for me about all of this is of course that no one does seem to be saying this, and therefore makes me a minority.  Which means democracy is working.  Which means I’m wrong.  Surely not.

Anyway, for now, I’m going to join the one track minded group of politicians that run us and get a campaign going to assure Comrade Brown is sectioned.

Agree? Disagree? Keep the emails coming in, I’m thinking of starting to publish the best ones each month.  Let me know what you think about that too.

Those of you who cast your mind back to the last time I wrote to this blog will recall my distaste for the blithering idiot in a speed camera van parked on a certain road between Oxfordshire and Northamptonshire.  Those of you that can cast your mind back to 2003 may remember many newspapers, including ‘The Guardian’ and ‘The Times’ publishing several articles about my new hero - Captain Gatso.

Captain Gatso is the head of a somewhat extreme pressure group named MAD or ‘Motorists Against Detection’, and to date his group have destroyed more than 1000 speed cameras across the whole of the UK, but to my knowledge at least have been somewhat dormant of late.  I spent a good hour or so researching what I could about this chap, either he doesn’t want his work publicly available (weird?) or he’s gone on to bigger and probably better things.

Now before I get another email from a bunny boiling woman who claims speeding is all that’s evil in the world; allow me to clarify what MAD and I share an opinion on.  Speed cameras outside schools, in town centres and in densely pedestrian areas are fine, if you go through there doing more than 30MPH you deserve the 3 points and £60 fine.  What I don’t agree with, however, is the sheer number of speed cameras sighted solely for profit.

How many of you can say you’ve never once found yourself in the right hand lane of a motorway pushing 100?  Moreover, even the most careful and safe drivers agree that while excessive speed can be dangerous, almost 90% of drivers in a study conducted by a non-government (and therefore slightly more trustworthy) agency, felt the speed limit should be increased from 70 MPH.

So, let’s get on with recognising the achievements of Captain Gatso.  There are pictures of his work on the Internet, on speed camera related websites and I did try and request permission to put them in a blog post, but the author of the website didn’t get back to me as of writing this.  The main ones are of Gatso meters (the most common form of camera in the UK - they’re the ones that are painted battleship grey, a few of them have the yellow fascias) that have met their demise through the pain of dynamite.  Others have been decapitated with an angle grinder and a few of them have been torched.

It really is heart warming to see these cameras getting burnt, the governments cash cows finally proving to be somewhat costly.  Sadly, local governments do tend to replace the cameras that have been removed although a few cease to exist.  Which is a result, I suppose.

I write this post, of course, on the day that Ruth Kelly announces she will be stepping down from her role as Transport Secretary.  This means two things; one mong down, a Labour cabinet left and secondly, a minister in charge of transport who might, just might be a fellow motorist.  I doubt it, no doubt his Gordoness will appoint another antique example of what a dead canary might look like.  Who knows, I don’t and we have a government that has no idea either.

Anyway, for the first time I’m going to leave you with an image:

A couple of weeks ago now, I was taking a leisurely drive down a road in the country side.  It’s a road that runs between Banbury and Silverstone, and for those of you that don’t know which one I’m on about from that description then one of two things is wrong:

1) You aren’t a true petrol head and the contents of this post will bore you to death, or:

2) You are a petrol head in the making and haven’t yet discovered the joys of this particular road, so I will not spoil it for you, or give any crafty road traffic officers any ideas.

On the presumption you haven’t yet got bored of this post, I continue.  The day was gorgeous, not a cloud in the sky and I drove down this particular road like a free spirit, for a brief moment I almost forgot where I lived and deemed it to be somewhere, dare I say it, nice.  Where a government rules that isn’t formed of an unelected Scotsman that can’t take a hint from either the public or his own cabinet.  National speed limit applies on this road, 60 MPH, and I was doing sort of that, until I got stuck behind an old lady in a Honda Jazz doing about 50.

As we continued to meander around this magnificent public race track my cursing of this old bat got even worse until eventually we went around one particular bend, and on the off side, hidden in a nice row of hedges was what they call a “mobile safety unit” or what I might call a “cash cow”.  For those of you not from the UK, it’s basically a Ford Transit manned with a sweaty old fool that’s no good for any other policing and he takes pictures of you with his camera if you’re breaking the speed limit.  Sort of like Gary Glitter in a playground, but legalised.

I couldn’t believe it, I mean, having a speed camera anywhere where the speed limit is national is one thing, but having it hidden on the offside of a bend in a row of hedges is another thing.

The police and government and all the road safety charity blithering idiots remind us that they are not sited for profit, but for safety.  These speed cameras, you understand, are there for the greater good of everyone we are told mindlessly.  But, what we have here ladies and gentlemen is nothing short of proof that the Northamptonshire police at least are nothing other than money grabbing, gold digging, waste of blood and organs, sense of importance-less, unadulterated turnips.  Why on earth is it necessary to waste tax payers money on fuelling that particular van and paying that particular officer to go and sit on a road that is perfectly dry and safe in the name of safety?

If you can answer that question and it backs up the police presence, please do read on; this paragraph is for you especially.  Can you honestly swear on the life of your favourite sunflower you so tenderly nurture (because, let’s face it, you don’t have a wife or friends, do you?) that on that particular day that officers time and our hard earned money could not have been better spent doing something else?  Fornication with their own batons would have been more appropriate for goodness sake.  Moreover, I’m 99% certain that this van was concealed on an access driveway to a farmers’ field - so that farmer will be notified, in fact I hereby appoint myself in charge of letting that farmer know, and if he knowingly allows these people to do it, I’m going to wish his cows get bird flu, or whatever farmers worry about nowadays.

If you are on my side, that last paragraph was not directed at you and you can feel free to join in with my anger at these things.  As I’m sure you’ll agree, that in a time when we have a rise in violent street crime invlolving things such as knife; a respect and cooperation with any police force is necessary, but when they do things like this is it any wonder whatsoever that “Juggy the thuggy” wants to “knife” the old lady, and no one would possibly go to the police station and report such a thing, because the resulting ‘defect notice’ means they’ll come away with three points on their license.

Normally, of course, I would send a lot of angry letters to someone in charge, but this time I feel my actions said it all.

Thanks to the lady in the Honda I was going very slow, because of that, I of course got a good few seconds of being in view of this van.  Meaning the operator got a good few seconds of looking at me.  Meaning he saw the two fingered salute I gave him.