Car Crash

Felt bloody rotten this morning. Driving lesson was an unmitigated disaster. Not my fault of course. Some complete chump who was very probably uninsured went into the back of my car on Chelsea Bridge. Fatty Brent was livid. I thought he was going to knock this guy out. They had a full on row in the middle of the road, which only managed to piss off every other driver in London. Anyway the guy that hit us basically gave Fatty the finger and then drove off so that endeth the lesson. I had to sit in the back of the car while we drove home in case I accidentally hit one of the dual control pedals. Christ, what does he think, I’m special needs or something?? I can’t wait til this bloody test is over and I can hit the road whenever I want.

Dad’s picking the Jag up from the garage tomorrow so I might go with him and see if I can get behind the wheel for a bit. Not holding out much hope mind you. He’s been in a very weird mood all weekend. Mother’s barely said anything either. I caught her furiously drying up a sherry glass after breakfast. I bloody hope she isn’t cracking onto the sauce before 10am but who knows. Should be an interesting week..

Sal didn’t come home either. She’s got a new man, reckons “he’s the one”. What a load of chod. She always thinks she’s onto a winner for the first three weeks and then they get bored. Her trouble is she’s up for shagging them way too soon. I’m sure those are heel marks in the ceiling of her Peugeot 205 so you can’t deny she isn’t showing them a good time but she could definitely do with toning it down a bit.

Going to call Ralph in a bit and see if he’s up for a few Newquay Browns down at The Archers tomorrow night. Over and out.