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the girl who used to dance on fire and brimstone
05 January 2007 @ 04:36 pm
whiskyinmind: I need to get ahold of that magazine - there's a free professional video editing programme on the disk!
monkey_matt: and that's just the next step in your fandom madness
whiskyinmind: Nuh-uh, it's me going back to what I was trained to do. If I had a proper edit suite I could knock one out in an hour.
monkey_matt: (descends into the hysterical giggling of the terminally dirty minded)



whiskyinmind: Why are there four kick-stools in the department?
monkey_matt : Because there are a lot of short people here.
whiskyinmind (tries and fails to thwap Monkey on the back of the head)
monkey_matt: We could line them up and J could jump from one to the other... did you ever play that game 'Pirates' when you have to jump from one thing to another without touching the ground?
whiskyinmind: I was in the Girl Guides, of course I played it.
monkey_matt: I was never in Girl Guides
whiskyinmind: if it wasn't for the gutter my mind would be homeless.



whiskyinmind: [nameless person] - sweet kid but a bit blonde, either that or [other nameless person] really shouldn't have been the one to train her.
monkey_matt: Yup.  The Deaf leading the Blonde.  Always a danger in traffic.
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Current Mood: gigglygiggly
 
 
the girl who used to dance on fire and brimstone
05 January 2007 @ 08:19 pm
Hypothetical situation:

Fairly heavy traffic, dual carriageway (two lanes going the same direction), slip road/off ramp is coming up and the car in front signals they are leaving the dual carriageway at this exit, it pulls onto the slip road/off ramp and you carry on, starting to pass the car as you do. At the very last second, the car (a silver Fiat Brava whose registration plate ends in VEL) decides that no, it didn't want to take that slip road/off ramp, and suddenly starts to veer back into your lane. You are already halfway past him. What do you do?

1 - Slam on the brakes and hope to hell you stop in time.
2 - Speed the fuck up and hope you'll make it past in time.
3 - Panic.

If you have chosen option 2 (as the driver of the blue Ford Fiesta badly in need of a trip to the carwash did because she was already committed and if she'd hit the brakes she wouldn't have to worry about washing the car this weekend 'cause she'd probably be spending it in hospital while the Fiesta in question was being taken apart for its component pieces) what do you do when the fucker in the silver Fiat Brava tries to prove he has the bigger balls by trying to match your speed and get in front of you?

1 - Slam on the brakes even though you're doing 50mph by this point and there's no fucking way you're going to stop in time
2 - Pull over to the central line as far as you can and know that because of the silver Fiat Brava (regie plate ending in VEL) someone is going to have at the very least a new paint job to charge to their insurance company.
3 - Panic.

If you have chosen option 2 (again, the driver of the not exactly clean blue Ford Fiesta), what do you do when you just manage to make it past the fucker in the silver Fiat Bravia (regie plate ending in VEL) and they fucking sideswipe you?

Seriously, I want to know.

Adrenaline leaves a horrible taste in your mouth.
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Current Mood: pissed offpissed off at Fiat Brava drivers