Took my 2 year old and his Gran to the beach
Somewhere on Deeside. Had a nice toddle/run/fallover, played a bit of footie with his miniature ball. He gets all tired and needs a carry back to the car park...

As we walk across the dune separating bech from carpark, some complete throbber of the first order comes belting along the footpath at the best part of 30 on a mini-quad, with his kid in front of him. Fully airborne at times, sand spraying everywhere, and Gran & Two Year Old diving out of the way, other beach users 'tsk'ing slightly.

Now (although this is t'internet and I could be a 9 stone metrosexual called Tarquin) I am a fairly big bloke. 6'0" and 15 stone shamefully, due to Captain Morgan and Walkers, but I digress. I also sport a No 1, goatee, extremely loud shouty Sergeant-Majory type voice and an accent that defaults to purest Gorbals when I get a little tetchy. Dunno why really, as I come Frae Embra, but good enough description for you Southern Puffs, who seem to find a Jockanese accent threatening at times. Wasn't even painted blue or waving a Claymore while shouting 'Freedom' or anything.

Anyhoo, as I inhaled enough bracing seaside air to inflate an elephant in preparation for the ear-shattering "You braindead fucking twat get that bike stopped now or I'll rip your fucking head off" type comment, I realised that I was in the company of my dear ol' Mum, Junior, and of course Fuckwit's kid.

Hmmm. I settle for a quiet word in his pal's shell-like intimating that things had better be calmed down a smidge or el Ploddo would be informed. And got told to fuck off for my efforts. So, as a law abiding citizen all I can do is obviously record his registration number (top tip kids, a plod-type notebook makes people nervous) and gently remind him that Plod will confiscate and crush the noisy miniature piece of junk (if they could be arsed of course and we all know how likely that would be). And wander off with family going 'tsk tsk'. Knowing that if fucky Mc Fucknuts roll the quad, odds are he'll live, but the kid would be mince.

I think I'm mellowing in my old age. Or have been living down here too long. Or am just scared of my Mum.

Dig a deep pit, chuck the owners of the horrible things in, and top with the crushed remains of their stupid toys.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Thu 14 Feb 2008, 14:14, Reply)