Where I live theres a road
which isnt quite wide enough to have two official lanes, but everyone drives along it side by side. Just over the next junction, it merges into one.
Im in the left lane to go on, and this big fucking thing canes down the right side to undertake me (we drive on the other side here in Poland.) whilst I'm pulling out, and as the road narrows, he's run out of room and slides his brand new Ssang Yong against the rear wing of my 30-year old rustbucket diesel Merc.

He pulls over and comes at me, holding a massive 4-battery maglight as a weapon, so I get out all calmly and let him vent all his verbal abuse at me. "I'll take you to court, they'll throw the fucking book at you, you shouldnt be on the fucking road. rah rah rah," he's saying, oblivious to the concept that he caused the crash. I wait for him to catch his breath before calmly saying, in Polish; "I'm English and the law can't fucking touch me." This, and the fact that he was in the wrong, shut him up. The cunt gave me 200 quid in cash for the damage, which is what I paid for the car in the first place.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:56, Reply)

4 little words.
hemel hempstead "magic roundabout".

that is all.

thank god it remained an unsightly and nonfunctional prototype.

also, kings cross in halifax. wtf is that all about!?
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:51, Reply)

Buses
In my first year at Exeter Uni, i disocvered that zebra crossings don't apply to buses. They never stop, even when you are already ON the crossing...

I discovered this by having to jump out of the way not once, not twice, but thrice one weekend.
(McFlu, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:47, Reply)

Not Road Rage but stupid driving all the same
I've got my driving test on 1st November so this is all great! Thanks guys!
Those of you who live in Northamptonshire will know that Kettering is having a huge makeover (industrial sector has the biggest warehouse in Europe etc). ANYWAY. There are new trafic lights around there witht he stupidest synchronisation ever invented resulting in most people racing the lights (and some twunts turning right when there is no right turn). Hard to explain so I wont. Anyway, my dearest mother is racing around trying to beat the lights when as she was about to pull out onto the main road, a motorcyclist who has clearly just bombed through 3 red lights rides through at 70 mph (in a 50 zone too).
Needless to say, brakes are engaged and swear words emanate from dearest mothers mouth which you wouldn't hear in a dockyard
That cyclist was a twunt

Also, a 22 y.o died on the bypass near me racing. Let that be a lesson
(The_Reaper, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:47, Reply)

Not quite road rage
Not quite an on the road experience, more a tenuously linked story about driving.

I work for a well known motoring organisation (3 letters, not 2), I have to deal with people everyday that I swear shouldn't be allowed in public, let alone near a car.

Now the worst of these are the elderly, 99% of them are unable to comprehend the most basic of questions, such as "What's your postcode?", they have no visibility as they seem unable to read paperwork 2 feet from their noses so how they can safely see a pedestrian at night I have no idea, but worse than those are the one who spend £10,000 on a new car that they'll drive 1000 miles a year in and then complain that the insurance has gone up because they've replaced there 15yr old £500 Volvos for a car costing 20 times as much. Makes me scream everytime I get off the phone from the doddery miserable old fools, lost count the numbers of times I've wished they'd fall down the stairs
(Laxly, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:47, Reply)

Robertsons bus
Travelling home from a road trip round Northern Scotland we stopped in Luss car park only for my English mate Gary to state "this place is shit, lets drive on a bit" Cue my mate Kris getting majorly pissed off and red lining first and second gear as he sped away. Next thing I remember was hearing a very fucking loud thud and upon looking up a large bus strangely close to the passenger side. Turned out to be a group of 12/13 year olds with various types of disabilities and all bar 3 of them were now heartily giving Kris wanker signs from the comfort of their very much dented coach. Wet myself, I almost shat!
(grazer is sick of looking at houses, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:43, Reply)

my dad
my dad has bad road rage. the best example of this was when he was stuck
behind a really slow coach with school kids on it the kids
were about 10 an because it was a hot day some of the coach windows were
open and we had our car window open.

my dad was getting really
pissed off at how shit the driver was at drivin so he started shoutin:
"YOU FUCKIN CLOWN WHO TAUGHT YOU TO DRIVE LIKE THAT THE FUCKIN CIRCUS?!?!?
HEY KIDS IF YOUR GONNA DRIVE WHEN YOUR OLDER MAKE SURE YOU DON'T TAKE
LESSONS FROM THIS CIRCUS CUNT!"

i swore i heard one of the kids say "whats a cunt??"

.
(i eat crayons, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:28, Reply)

All about the timing...
A few years back there was some big roadworks on that car park of a road called the M25. The stretch had a 50 MPH limit and was down to 2 lanes.

One night, quite late, driving home from Wales (About 6 hours!), one lane is full of lorries heading to Dover or the Channel Tunnel, the other is quite quiet, so I take the quiet lane and sit happily at 50 in the roadworks.

Next thing I know there is this twunt right up my back flashing his lights and indicating (personal hate of mine). This goes on for about 6 miles - there was no safe gap in the slow traffic and I want gonna break the law to please some gimp!

Just as I see a gap I hatch a plan to get my own back, and just as I pull over Gimp puts his foot down and speeds off. The next thing, 2 flashes from the speed camera hidden behind a bridge with the chap sticking his finger out at it.

Oh how I laughed...
( eh dad, wheres the stella? Parp + Honk = Wibble!, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:22, Reply)

I was on my way to a fancy dress party.
My mate was driving in his rather mundane Rover 400, as the American Psycho - smart shirt, tie, shiny shoes, only spoilt by the red food poisoning he'd liberally splashed around as blood. I was dressed up in my Dad's old Police riot outfit - black bodysuit, utility belt, headstomping toe caps. No Police tags, because I wouldn't want to be breaking the law or anything.

Cruising down the A3 to Portsmouth, we get tailgated by a cunt in a Merc, who roars past us. My mate and I exchange glances, nod, he floors it and starts beeping and flashing his lights - we saw the driver do the double take in his rear view mirror as I held up my wallet (to suggest I MAY have some kind of identity in it...) He pulls over; we pull in behind, step out and walk up to him.

He's a fat old cunt, balding on top, and visibly perspiring as he has the window wound down. "Yes?" he stammers, trying to bluff bravado.
"Can you explain your driving back there, sir?" I ask, in a deadpan voice, staring at him. He breaks gaze. "Not really, officer." "So you have no justifaction for driving like a cunt then?" I ask him. He's obviously not used to being spoken like that, because he opens his mouth and then closes it, lips going thin.

"So how about you stop playing with the lives of everyone else on the road then, or I'll have your fucking license!" I spat at him, and walked back to my mates car. We pulled out and carried on, at a steady 70. He stuck about 200 yards behind us for the entire way to Portsmouth, like the bitch that I made him.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:11, Reply)

Bathing
The little un' is 16 months old, and has managed to beg a new Bob The Builder 'brolly and naturlich, he wanted to try it out in the rain.

So off we tootle down through the park to the Co-Op to get some groceries. Now the wee-un walks very nicely, and he loves his new 'brolly so much that's it's up and banging me on the leg ALL the way through the park, even though the rain clouds have all gone away and the sun, she shines brightly causing a light steam to emanate from our Kagoules.

So as we emerge onto the West Road in Newcastle, I thought it was possibly wise to retract the 'brolly for fear I wouldn't be able to cope with it, and a particularly nippy toddler. So there I crouched, on the West Road trying to extricate a Bob the Builder 'brolly from the vice-like grip of the wee-un and a light-metallic-green Jaguar S-Type decided to veer into the nearest puddle and wash us both head to toe with dirty water.

The little one cried his little heart out.

Now obviously, I'm enraged by this and by the time I'd picked up the 'nipper the said light-metallic-green Jaguar S-Type had just turned the corner out of sight.

So I ask you - if you live in Newcastle and you know of a light-metallic-green Jaguar S-Type - please a) Smash his wing-mirrors b) take a good-sized gouge out of his silly little paint-job or preferably c) message me with his details so I can report the bastard to the police - because remember - it is an offence to deliberately drive through a puddle with the intention of wetting a pedestrian. And I'm the sort of cunt who will press charges.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:02, Reply)

Gypsy curse
I had a driving lesson last week (test number 12 coming up - go for it!).
My instructor asked me to do an emergency stop, just after a bend in the road. I thought it was a bit dangerous, but far be it for me to challenge a professional.
I stopped and we sat there for a bit, and all of a sudden a family of gypsies came round the corner behind me, riding these chariot things being pulled by horses. They're hard to describe - they really did look like chariots. Anyway, as they rode past me the daddy gypsy started flipping out. "Why have you stopped on a blind bend you stupid f*cking c*nt, are you out of your f*cking mind? Learn to f*cking drive!". I just sat there staring straight ahead, close to tears after an hour and a half of bay parking and reversing round corners, contemplating why someone would shout "learn to drive" at someone in a car with a "Driving School" sign sticking out of the roof. My instructor just stared straight ahead, she went into a kind of trance. The gypsies started to ride away, and as they did the daughter gypsy turned around. She was about 13 and was blatantly an Arch Fleabag.
As she caught me eye, without thinking I waggled my tongue at her in quite a sordid and unpleasant way. I'm not proud of it, I really don't know what possessed me.
She then called out to her dad, who stopped the horse and began to walk towards us quite quickly. My instructor said "right let's go. Come on GO!" And we sped past them, leaving them feast on my Vauxhall Corsa dust. ha! That gypsy was well and truly CROSSED.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:58, Reply)

I just don't get it
Can some-one please explain the rage of the complete retard that stopped right behind me in an otherwise empty garage in November 2003?

I pulled into the garage in my mums old volvo 740 - lovely car, but generally hated by bikers (even though I make a point of looking out for bikers ... it's funny to see peoples faces when a volvo gives a bike right of way!).
So, I go in to the little hut to pay for the 5000 litres of fuel that one of those fat tank bastards can take. Waiting at the till I notice out of the window that some bald headed twat with his middle aged barbie have pulled up behind my car. Confused (as there were about 9 other free pumps), I pay and go back to my car.
The aformentioned gentleman greets me with "Are you taking the fucking piss?"
Stunned I utter "what? no?"
"Well then get in your fucking car and move!!"
So as he starts approaching I fumble for my keys and get in ... I then lock the doors, start the engine and wait.
He got into his car; he got out of his car. I moved 3 feet forward ... he got back into his car. I wait. He got out of his car. I move three feet forward. He got into his car. I stop and this time wait for him to walk up to the back of the car. I drive off.

Satisfying as making a 6 foot balding ape look even more stupid than he made himself look is; I really just wonder what the hell is wrong with these people.

I had another Leicesterite tail gate, then beep me and undertake in the bus lane, cos I happened to be doing the speed limit; mostly to prevent harm coming to my pregnant girl friend. Funnily, they ended up at the end of the full on wrath of my very hormonal partners tongue.

Can't we all get along? If not, can't some people stop being twats?

Length, got it, depth, hell yeah, but you'll never get an appology from me ;)
( Far Out Slave last ate at, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:55, Reply)

Yep
On a really busy junction near where i live every time i'm waiting for a car to pass so i can get out there will always be some idiot in a big car hooting his horn behind me.
(The lord Boo., Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:54, Reply)

I know this is off topic...
..but I need to be told how to really charm my other half, she's just come back from a funeral of an old mate of ours and I couldn't go and I have had no sleep for 2 days and am half cut...pls no piss taking this is serious.

flowers, presents &tc no good, wouldn't ask if didn't need it.

Edit: Message me eh? cheers kids...
Road rage, ahh, if only.
(Fonkadelix is fucking bored, pass the crack pipe Mavis., Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:49, Reply)

Karma, and braking for animals
When I was in sixth form, I took - and failed - my driving test twice. During this time I had a fairly psychotic instructor named Phil, who would whistle and sing Cliff Richard songs for seemingly no reason. He regularly had bouts of road rage, the worst of which was one day when he was teaching me to drive in the countryside. I was out on a straight piece of road, doing sixty, and about fifty feet in front of me a pheasant trots out into the road. There was no one behind me, and no one in front of me but the pheasant, so I emergency-stopped and it fluttered back into the verge. Yay, I thought, avoided bird death (good karma, and besides pheasants are beautiful, if dim) and having to pay for a new bumper for driving instructor. Oh no.

"WHY DID YOU STOP?"
"Dude, there was a pheasant in the road."
"SO? FLATTEN IT! EAT IT FOR DINNER!"
"You can't eat them if the body's crushed, the spleen ruptures and poisons the meat. Besides, it would have ruined your bumper."

In among all this, a girl from my year (have I mentioned her before? There was a rumour she was sleeping with her brother), who was laughing at me for not being able to pass my test, passed first time. What followed led me to ask the question "What did you say when you passed? Oh... guess it's hard to talk with your mouth full."

A couple of days after she passed her test, she took me, Stalker Boy and two visiting Chinese students into Leicester. She came to a roundabout, saw someone who was going to drive onto the same exit as we were coming out from the right (the way I was taught, the direction you give way to), and cut out in front of them, onto the dual carriageway. Where the guy stayed level with her in the inside lane, steadily yelling "stupid bitch" and "dumb blonde" and things like that at her for about three miles, while she gave him the finger and pointed at her hair as an excuse. Woo.
( Maladicta, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:36, Reply)

I had to do Jury service in June
One of the trials was a 21-year-old man who was up for GBH, he had allegedly hospitalised a 61-year-old taxi driver in an unprovoked drunken attack (see the road-rage relevance…).

Now to cut a long story short I thought the little scrote had obviously done it, but the unemployed housewives in my jury thought he "looks like such a nice young man" and that they couldn’t possibly send him to jail because "he could be my son".

At the first deliberation vote it was 7-5 in the defendants favour, the little bastard was going to get off because the old dears on the jury wanted to mother the little shit despite the fact he had blatantly punched the elderly taxi driver to the ground, kicked him repeatedly in the back & hospitalised him for 5 days.

It took me FIVE HOURS to convince those 'tards that he was guilty, I bullet-pointed on flip-charts the reasons & evidence that pointed to his guilt, we went over the damning evidence again and again and AGAIN. I even led on the ground & let another juror pretend kick me in the back (a little too hard for my liking) just to ram the point home.

Five hours, and it still wasn’t unanimous. The final vote was 10-2 guilty because two of them "just couldn’t send that boy to prison". As we had taken so long there wasn’t time for the judge to sentence him but I phoned up a few weeks later and he got 2 years in prison.

N.A. of Shepton-Mallet prison, I doubt you will ever know that you were a gnats chuff from getting away with it. I hope you're getting rammed.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:12, Reply)

my personal quest...
is to get every self-centred, ignorant cnutarse of impatient motorist to say thank you when you let them past/pull out etc.

It is not a god given right that I pulled in behind a parked car and let you through as you are almost certainly inferior to me in every way. I do it because I have manners...

So when you drive past without acknowledging my kind gesture don't be surprised if I provide you with a flourishing nazi style salute...

Anyway - I've been doing this for about three years in St Albans and you know what - the situation is improving - now only the occassional cabcnut hurtles past without saying cheers.

And don't get me started on mobile phones...
(bonus_finger, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:06, Reply)

FOG LAMPS
thats another one while I think about it, f r i g g i n g FOG LAMPS, why is it that bloody idiots put them on at the least sign of a little bit of cloud,

Use with visibility under 100 meters it says in the sdoddign highway code, yet they are on when you can see for a mile ahead. IDIOTS and they leave them on for the next 4 days, blinding they are

why cant some manufacturer invent a fog sensor for these to auto on and off them.

I hate the idiots you use fog lamps especially in the rain.

twunts
( ratman, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:01, Reply)

I suffer from road rage all the time........
but thats because I'm a bit of a cycle path
( Winthorpe Sim-Sala-Bim, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 15:00, Reply)

Did they really think no-one would have thought of that?
I was home from uni for the summer, and had my parents house to myself. I was in the back garden having a smoke about 1am one night, when I noticed a bright blue flash and shortly afterwards the squeal of tires. The speed camera on the road out the front has claimed another victim. Cue slamming car doors and shouting, then revving and a speedy departure up the road. I sneaked a peek through the gate as they high-tailed it and seeing the lovely chav-tastic hatchback, I chuckled.

Having finished my cigarette, I was just heading back inside when I hear further revving and an almighty crash, followed by more slamming doors and copious swearing. I made my way to a window, where I beheld the same car with a deep dent in the front. Nestling in the dent at roughly three degrees off the vertical was the still-intact speed camera. Tracksuit clad passengers were engaged in a vigorous physical debate as to whose stupid fucking idea ramming the camera was.

I went and got a beer, then sat back and enjoyed the show until the police showed up.
(wellgroomedwookiee is a filthy-minded hobgoblin, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:57, Reply)

M3 BMW
One Saturday afternoon whilst travelling back from High Wycombe to Southampton where I live I had the following pleasure.

Saturday afternoon on the Mr southbound from the Basingstoke junction and the road was clear in front of me for miles. Beautiful not a car in sight, so putting the foot down hoping to get home a little faster I started to push up to around 90 mph, not slow, but not as fast as that magic loose your licence number of 100.
In the distance I see a lone black BMW sitting in the overtaking lane. Now I'm driving in the nearside lane, or the slow lane and I'm moving slightly faster than this car travelling in the outside or overtaking lane.
So the little puzzle again presents itself, do I either undertake this BMW which is of course illegal, or move up behind him and get him to move out of the BMW lane to the centre, or perhaps the nearside lane, where the twunt should really be.

Still no other cars in sight I indicated out and manovered behind him, hoping he would pull over and allow me to pass without undertaking him ( against the law in the UK unless the car is turning right)

So, the twunt sees me and starts to accelerate. Hmmm, ok, what to do, him in his BMW and me in my little astra estate. So I thinks why not and accelerate to, and it goes on, and on ( just like this post)

Eventually were speeding down the M3 at a little over 120 mph each.

Then it occurs.

The southbound part of the M3 where the Newbury bypass joins, there is a bridge, and sitting on that bridge presumably bored out their tiny skulls is a traffic police car.

( Q, have you ever asked a Traffic Policeman if he was to scared to be a real policeman and catch real criminals, its fun )

I saw it in the distance, the BMW didn’t, so I decelerate to just under 75, while he appears to sprint like hell away from me.

Beautiful. It took another 5 minutes for me to pass him, pulled over on the hard shoulder, the driver was outside the car gesticulating wildly at two coppers who had stopped him,

120 mph, I hope the git lost it,

Wicked is my middle name :-)
( ratman, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:53, Reply)

A rose by any other name
After getting cut up in traffic by one of those baby off-road style crap-wagons, and advising the driver exactly what i thought of their heritage, my Spanish girlfriend started laughing. When I grumpily asked why, she pointed to the Pajero in front of us, and said that in spanish 'pajero' means wanker.

I have to admit, I've never heard of a car that was better named.
( reverend_smarm, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:50, Reply)

Served the bastards right
Honda Civic. Stick on "mirror" windows. Booming Bangra. Tracksuited, Burberried fuckwits. You get the picture.

Tools past a line of traffic, through a red light and turns right. General carnage ensues.

Where's a frigging copper when you need one? We lament.

Just behind us in an unmarked Vaxhall estate it would appear.

We slowed down to give all concerned a round of applause when they had been pulled over a mile up the road. Made one of the coppers smile at least.


If I wiggle it does it seem more girthsome?
(Opus_O_Rama, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:43, Reply)

road rage ?
ok, I ride a motorcylce. over the years ive had so many close calls, mostly due to other road users being ignorant and or stupid. heres my most recent one:

coming up to a small roundabout (you know the pissy poor excuse for them we have in the UK when they wont spend money on traffic lights?), i have right of way, am already on the island. car speeds onto the island in front of me, I have to brake heavily to stop in time, nearly falling off.

I notice driver is on his mobile phone and completely oblivious to me. grrr thinks I. twunt.

Next island, 2 approaching lanes - i am in right lane, another car in left lane right next to me. he moves into my lane. no indicator, no looking. whilst avoiding him, I nearly get pushed into oncoming traffic, so closely in fact , that one of my mirrors gets tapped by an oncoming car...

yes its the same guy and he is still on his mobile phone.

At this point I see red...

I follow him closely to the next traffic lights, pull alongside him. I hit his rear view mirror as hard as I can, breaking it off. he opens his window with an angry "what the feck do you think you are doing?" (still on his phone). I grab his phone off him and throw it into the nearby road where there is lots of passing traffic. crunch. at this point he is just bewildered, so i grab him by the tie, pull him to the window and shout through my helmet " you nearly killed me twice while on your phone you ignorant fuck, the next biker you do that to *will* kill you.. ".

released him, rode off.

Am I the stupid one for putting myself in a vulnerable situation by riding a motorbike in the first instance ? Am I the stupid one for expecting other human beings to have respect for the fragility of other road users ?

If I had reported him to the police, what would have happened ? "sorry its your word against his", etc, etc.

Road rage ? Im all for a bit of traffic vigilantism if it helps to get the message into stupid wankers heads.

Yay for traffic vigilantes !

sorry for the lack of funniness, I promise I will do better next time.
( pregnantfridge, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:37, Reply)

Mr Bun the Cunt.
I live on Morrison Street in Central Edinburgh, just a gnat's todger down the road from an all-night bakery. Right next to the bakery, hidden off the road, is a free residents' car park. It's so close to my flat that I leave the car there, even though it's not, strictly speaking, 'our' car park to use. The locking gate is rarely shut as the residents (mostly nice, reasonable people) know how obscure the place is and have plenty of room to spare in it.

When I'd just moved in to the flat, I pulled in to the car park one day. The baker (whose shop is NOT part of the designated car park owners' building) came out and warned me that "It's residents' parking only. This gate locks!"

"I'll only be a minute, just nipping round the corner to get my flatmate, then we're off to Ikea", says I, as it was the truth.

I came back to a locked gate. I didn't spot his thinly-veiled threat.

So I wandered up to the top of the car park, where a young boy was beating a carpet. I asked him if he knew where I could get a set of keys for the gate.

"MAW! THROW US THE KEYS FER THE GATE DOON!"

As we wandered back across the car park, I thank the young man and mention that it was the baker who locked the gate because I dared park there.

"Aye... he's a fuckin' fanny."

Apologies for baguette.
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:29, Reply)

Sainsbury's Car Park Spotty Cunt Horrified Old Ladies - rage
One football free saturday I decided to do the decent thing and do the shopping for the wife who was at work...
I went to my local Sainsburys and was promptly mown down whilst crossing a zebra crossing directly in front of the entrance by a spotty little cunt in a Citreon Saxo.
Being somewhat upset by this and despite a bruised knee and foot, I courageously managed to open the passenger side door, drag the aforementioned youth out of the car and set about him with my fists, feet and belt...all in front of a horrified group of old dears collecting for a charity.
The youth was crying for his mummy by the time Id finshed with him and was being seen to by a security guard when the scuffers turned up and knicked him for dangerous driving......I carried on with my shopping trip and even managed to get 3 packs of my Mrs' fav.washing powder for the price of 1.
( bigmeuprudeboy is using powerpoint or paint...have MERCY, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 14:23, Reply)