The New UK Motorway Laws

The New UK Motorway Laws

It appears that the UK has rolled out a load of new rules for driving on motorways.

The accepted practice is not that everyone sits bumper to bumper in lane 3 (or ‘The Fast Lane’), tapping their brakes at regular intervals, whilst traffic now overtakes them in the two left-hand lanes.

All the way up the M6 the other day and then back down again I witnessed this phenomenon.  Everyone in lane 3 as traffic concertinered to a dead stop again and again with no cause – no accidents or road works – just fuckwits behind the wheel.

As soon as traffic speed drops below 60mph it’s time to dive into lane 1 and carry on at speed, otherwise you get caught in lane 3 as you watch all the HGV’s piss off into the distance as if they’ve just snatched your purse!

I’ve ranted many times about drivers who hog the middle lane, meaning they’ve just instantly reduced a 3 lane motorway to a one lane snarl-up, but things have all of a sudden got REALLY serious.

People will sit in lane 2 or 3 for miles and miles.

How hard can it be for the Government to get some adverts out there that simply say:


Come on, people!  Are you scared of ‘The Slow Lane’ all of a sudden?


Because once you’re in it you have to LOOK in your fucking mirrors and actually INDICATE to pull out and go past people?  Are you cunts really that lazy that this is the cause?  Or am I missing something?

I know we’re not supposed to ‘undertake’ people but they have made it impossible.

I would suggest that if you indicate left and leave the light on as you go past some ignorant wanker in the middle lane it might, just MIGHT make them think about pulling the fuck over!

Remember: if someone is able to undertake you, then you should have been able to pull over to the left to let them pass, anyway! 

And there is no such offence as ‘undertaking’.  If you get pulled it will be for dangerous or reckless driving.  So if you undertake safely there is no law against it.

Adding in your own gesticulations and shake of the head as you cruise past them as if you’re driving in fucking Spain is optional.

Leave those evil dangerous lunatics who exceed a 50 year old speed limit alone – and focus on those twats who are a REAL danger to everyone one on our roads!  Where is the campaign to get people to stay the fuck to the left on motorways?!

Poor Women And Their Terrible Online Experiences

Poor Women And Their Terrible Online Experiences

I’ve been subscribed to this blog for a while (and I suggest you do, too!) but this little ditty about online niceness got me all Frothy-Mouthed Gaa-Gaa about halfway through.  Take a look, and then know that the blog below is my opinion on it:

Suck it up!

Ooh!  Save the poor women!

I’m a member of several biking forums where women are treated equally – in fact I’m often surprised to find out that a user I thought was male turns out to be female.  And then I carry on not caring and forget again.

And while we’re on the subject of wittle wadies being forced out of ‘mens discussions’ online I cough a big hearty “bullshit” at you.

Blogs written by women get loads of hits.  This may sound a little bitter and sexist, but I firmly believe… nay – I KNOW that this is simply because they are female.

Possibly because of men hanging on hoping to get a shag, or possibly because of other women hanging about to criticize – but publicity is publicity!  And that’s why we’re doing it!

It is absolute bollocks that women writers have a harder time of things.  Sure, they MAY (allegedly) come in for more abuse because of their writing, but tough titty.  Like I just said – we do this for views of whatever kind.  For every “DIE YOU SNAKE-TITTED CUNT!” comment a woman writer gets, she will get 4 more telling her how great/beautiful she is, or how they were looking for a snake-titted cunt exactly like her.

And don’t even get me started on Erotic Writing.

*breathes heavily*

OK – you got me started!

Men aren’t supposed to write erotica.  Those who do, have to write weird violent shit that is mainly read by cross-eyed men with a hammer hidden in their raincoat.

If a man writes erotica and anyone from The Real World outside the internet ever finds out, they face ridicule and hostility and disgust.  From REAL people.  Face to face.  Not just on some shit computer you can turn off and STFU about.

And that includes men who write the more vanilla erotica, such as myself.  I have no doubt whatsoever that to make my stories infinitely more saleable I’d simply have to call myself Maybell Definately-Hasntgotbollocks.

So it really depends what you do online.  If you’re just mentalling around Facebook looking at pictures of your ex’s new girlfriend, then it’s a bit harsh when hairy-palmed men with their pigeon chest displayed in their profile picture start emailing you.

But if you’re on the internet to be popular, then pull your head out of your balloon-knot and realise that attention you’re having a cry about is what’s got you there.

So shup.

‘Most Haunted’ Rant

‘Most Haunted’ Rant

For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of seeing this, it’s a UK TV programme where a bunch of paranoid schizophrenic cock-heads go mentalling about special ‘haunted’ sites attempting to film all kinds of spooky goings on.

What we get is some freakishly jittery little cunt who screams at everything and every two minutes will stare at nowhere and say “WHAT WAS THAT?!?” whilst grasping the cameramans todger in a vice-like grip.

Occasionally, she will point at a random ‘orb’ floating around looking ‘spookily’ like a torch beam or glass reflection.

Partnering her is the Psychic Medium Ghosty Woo Gaa-Gaa King.

‘Derek’ is a Scouser, who, after sniffing far too much glue in his teens, has figured out that he can call the shrieky little wench (‘Yvette’, if you’re interested) a “fucking bitch slut whore” in front of millions of TV viewers by simply putting on a rock ‘n roll snarl and saying he’s possessed by a ghost.

As the expert, he’ll also go all misty-eyed and distant, as he describes how an angry ghost called – Phil… Phillis… Fellatio? Oh yes, I mean Stan – once stomped through this stately home in anger after bad mojo made him wank himself to death in the 14th Century.

The camera crew are the ones who didn’t get through the auditions to do ‘The Blair Witch Project’ but their Mommy did buy them a camera that sees in the dark.

They also have a few random chubby people who need a sit down halfway through the episode, and mysteriously feel all ill and queasy.  Sometimes they’ll lay down in a bath and moan about how they’re slipping down as if some Evil Spirit is pushing them down and down and down.  Even though we can all see the cunt-wigs are just sat in a bath having a sook.

Every 20 minutes or so, someone will pass out from boredom somewhere on set, causing a nice *THUMP* that will get everyone excited.

If nobody passes out in time, one or all of the crew will hear a thump or footsteps that the cameras weirdly won’t be able to pick up on their sound – but they DID hear it, ok???


Did you hear that???

Yes – I’ve just shit in my own hand and thrown it at those paranormal mongs on the TV.

Please fuck off.  Please.

I guess at least it builds up an audience of desperate rubber-heads who will pay to keep the shitty fake Mediums in business…

Public Lemmings

Public Lemmings


Surely, the first thing you were taught after being told you could let go of your Mummies hand when you were outside, is that you should look before you cross the road?

After that, if you had non-Jeremy Kyle level parents, they should have even suggested that if there’s a pedestrian crossing within a few feet, then you should use that to cross in safety.

So why, in the name of Holy mouse-eared fuckability, do so many of you braindead cunts run blindly out through the traffic at every opportunity?

I’ve just started commuting into Birmingham city centre, and was expecting to be knocked off and squished by idiot car drivers who were drinking coffee, texting, and shaving their bawbag on their way to and from work… but NO!

The things trying to kill me are big two-legged twats loping off the curb like something out of a fucking 1980s video game!

I’ve ranted on before about Bromsgrove.  There’s a section of road where there are TWO pedestrian crossings within about 30 yards of each other – and what happens?

Lummox-like cabbage-fucks do that ‘just-crossing-the-road-don’t-mind-me-mister’ stupid jog causing everyone to slam their brakes on.

My mate actually hit some stupid bint here as he was filtering on his bike.  Good!  Apparently her shopping bags went up in the air, comedy-style.  And my mate and his bike were totally undamaged.

I had another one only this morning.

I saw her and slowed, she saw me and carried on without a second glance – making me slam the anchors on and screech at her in a voice so high only dogs could hear.

And I bet the dopey-faced fucktard blames ME for the fact she went pottering off accross a damned road!

What’s wrong with you people???

Your parents can’t have dropped you ALL on your heads when you were little, surely?!?


AWB’s – How To Keep Your Hands Warm: Oxford Hot Hands Kit

AWB’s – How To Keep Your Hands Warm: Oxford Hot Hands Kit

For the last 5 or 6 years y commute on the bike has only been around 10 minutes long, and so a decent pair of Winter gloves or even my Summer gloves with windproof (Cold Killers) inserts has been plenty to cope.

I have Polish ancestry, and could sunbathe in a meat locker quite happily, which helps, too.

Lately my commute has changed into a long hard slog into Birmingham City Centre, and with the temperatures dropping rapidly, my fingers are suffering.

I did a 7am blast to Mallory Park in freezing fog where I was getting seriously worried I’d got my fingers frost-bitten, they were so cold!  I pulled over and warmed my numb fingers on my exhaust at one point…

I forget the exact figures, but riding a bike at 40 mph the wind-chill takes the temps hitting your mitts down 20 degrees centigrade, or something daft.  This means that anything under 5 degrees feels like you’re trying to ram ice cubes into the cold dead eyes of a Polar bear with bare naked hands.

When I was a motorcycle courier I fought against this by fitting a set of heated grips – and it was awesome!  I rode in my Summer gloves most of the time.

WTF was I doing suffering from frostbite when I actually had a brand spanking new Oxford Hot Hands kit that had been sat in a box for 6 years?!?

I found them out and went off to fit them.

You can pick up the Oxford Hot Hands set for probably £10 these days.  I paid £15 around 6 years ago, and as I knew these worked, I haven’t tried any others and can’t recommend them.

Basically, all you have to do is wrap the hand grips around your bars using the velcro, route the wiring from those to your on/off switch, and then route more wiring from the switch to your battery terminals.  You can simply screw the attachments into the existing terminals in seconds, or wire it directly into a live feed wire.  The advantage of the latter option is that you can’t leave them switched on accidentally, as they won’t work when your ignition is switched off.

I took the easiest option, and had them fitted in around 20 mins time – which mostly consisted of cable-tying the excess wires and routing it beneath part of the fairing.

They don’t come on at a great temperature, but build up very strongly if you keep your hands around them.  If you take a hand off they cool pretty fast, but soon get you snuggly warm again.

They get HOT.

I’d forgotten just how good they are!

The tips of your thumbs can still get cold, but I used to get around this by tucking them under the palms of my hands – great on motorways but not so easy hooning around in the city.  The heat they kick out to the rest of your hands means you’re unlikely to worry about this anyway.

Oh, and I’m talking about wearing my SUMMER Halo race gloves, here.  With vents and stuff.  COmbine them with full Winter gloves and you should be fine.

The reason I don’t is that they do have a down-side.  Two, actually.  The first is that if you park up and haven’t hard-wired them, then it is possible some Tit could switch them on and kill your battery. (or you can forget to switch them off)

They are quite thin, but still more bulky than the handlebar grips you’re used to.  This makes your hands ache a little.  I’m sure you get used to it after a while, but this is the main reason I’m still trying to stick to the thinnest gloves that I can for that extra feel.

And it really is that cheap and simple!

Anyone can fit them, and if you’re still riding about with cold hands, you’re an idiot!

Go buy some today and tell me they’re not great!