Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Not long and sour

...but short and sweet. Today my lovelies, The Quiller's usual venomous volume of vengeful verbal volleys have been vetoed by a viral vagabond (today's blog sponsored by the letter v and, as always, the number 69).

Yes, although his will is of iron and his tongue is of acid, The Quiller is regrettably only human and as such he is susceptible to the changing temperatures sweeping across the nation like any other, leaving a trail of moderate sniffles, occasional throaty coughs and headaches that, like a courteous prostitute, come and go.

So, lets not wait for the grass to grow on our journey through this wretched day. Let us blaze a trail through the necessaries before The Quiller's foot spa grows tepid.

Rant of the Day

After spending most of the day having to rebuild his computer from scratch thanks mainly to a pesky profile that got out of hand and roamed across the network chomping megabytes like they were skittles, The Quiller was rather isolated from the moronity the commonly engulfs his day.

That is, whilst consuming his sandwich-o'clocks he discovered the letters page of the filthy rag Lord Daffodil of Wales had purchased on his return to his normal luncheon duties.

So apparently we now know the cause of the horrific M5 crash on Monday that left seven dead and over fifty injured.


Ah yes, that was it! Speed done it! With the candlestick on the Motorway. You're fucking nicked, me beauty!

Seriously, what? Speed? Not the individuals involved but speed, you say. Yes, while I admit it's a very convincing argument blaming a magnitude of velocity that can't readily defend itself, perhaps a better case would be to actually step back and think about the location of this accident.

I would postulate that by it's very definition, a motorway is designed specifically for speed. And as such, one might suggest that perhaps we can look at what precautions have been taken to allow this to function.

For instance, what about if we measure the time it takes the average driver to react and break (lets call it stopping distance, shall we) without bonnet-kissing the car in front at the maximum speed of 70 mph and then publish our findings in a statutory document (lets call it the Highway Code)?

Perhaps if we then monitor some everyday motorway traffic to see whether this is being observed:


Oh, wait...

Wait, no...

My goodness, perhaps then that SPEED is not the cause of such a heinous and tragic event. Perhaps it is actually the fact that since the world has gone and sped itself up in the latter part of the previous century, even activities that still require constant due care and diligence are now treated with the same impatience as the most frivolous of every day activities.

Consequently, each and every journey up and down these smooth grey arteries of our nation has become hazard strewn with indicator-shirkers, middle lane enthusiasts and short sighted number-plate readers.

And I'd like to think that the decision on the recent revision to increase the maximum speed limit on our finest of roads to 80 mph will not be swayed heavily to one side by an unfortunate incident caused not by speed itself, but by our own collective ignorance of it's perils.

Quote of the Day

Spending some time flicking through an old camera that has laid at the bottom of a messy junk-draw for the best part of six months can be a fun way to spend a ten minute brew. Not least when you stumble upon a genuine gem of a moment that had escaped your memory.

It is one of these moments that brought me to our quote for the day. I give you not-so-curious George. He is, as the wife so eloquently put it, both the softest idiot and the biggest tit you can possibly wish to pay £60 for the privilege of owning.

" As anyone who has ever been around a cat for any length of time well knows cats have enormous patience with the limitations of the human kind "

Cleveland Amory - author and animal activist

And so with a nod of my head and a swoosh of my cape, and a blow of my runny nose, The Quiller shall leave you for another day.

More varied content and writing coming soon, I promise!

On the next page, my little parchment mites.

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