To the Yummy Mummy in the Discovery the other day, blatting down the back road in the pouring rain:
Yes, dear, I *know* that the nasty rain is scary! It might smear your caked make-up and fluff-up your newly-straightened bleach job; it makes you faff about with all those hundreds of confusing levers, to find the windscreen wiper one; it sprays up when you drive so fast and stops you being able to see; and it makes Torquil and Desdemona in the back squeal when it touches their precious skin. But PLEASE don’t cuddle up to my car’s bumper for comfort, because:
- I have a heart of black coal and don’t give a shit
- I might have to stop faster than you can blink your heavy eyes
- … actually, I can’t be arsed anymore: BRAKING DISTANCE, BRAKING DISTANCE, BRAKING DISTANCE you stupid fool. Look it up.
And to the pair of teen wannabe goths:
Stop sticking to other cars’ shadows. The light won’t really melt you. And you might live long enough to lose your virginity. If you’re really lucky.