Unremitting Loathing.

There aren't words to describe how much I loathe and detest the vile stretch of tarmac-covered purgatory that is the M60 motorway. I could go through my entire repertoire of obscene and descriptive insults and it still wouldn't come close to expressing the level of loathing that I have for the M60 motorway. Chris Rea once wrote a song called "Road to Hell". You can tell he wasn't writing about the M60 because the title mentions a destination, something that visitors to the M60 can only dream longingly about while listening repeatedly to the traffic reports telling you that the motorway is stationary along all the junctions to the place you'll never ever reach. Fucking hideous.

This evening I was supposed to be going riding, at 6pm in Plumley, Cheshire. This is a journey along the M60 to the M56 and then along an A road to the stables. In light traffic it takes 30 minutes, in rush hour traffic, about 50 minutes. Today however, things were working a little bit differently. Unbeknown to me, on the M62 a half witted bint, an utterly fuck-witted, useless, hairy arsed, horse-faced, horn-toed trollop had managed to drive her lorry across the central reservation onto the opposite carriageway and over someone's car, killing them. This meant that the M62 was closed in both directions. It also meant that everything that usually travelled along the M62 to the M6 both North and South, plus the usual rush hour M60 traffic was now pouring down the one motorway, the M60. And yes, by pouring I do mean sitting there with the engine idling wondering whether dehydration or lack of will to live would be the one to take them. This situation was not helped by the fact that both Manchester City and Manchester United are both playing tonight and the motorway was also crammed full of people who have more chance of impregnating the Queen than getting to the match for kick off. After 2 and bit hours on the M60 I managed to reach the turn off for the M56. Which also turned out to be stationary, As was the M56 itself. By this time I was dying for a piss which was just adding to my joy and my delight at being on the road with so many of my fellow human beings. So I decided to head for home and carried on, with the intention of doing a full lap of the circular M60 and getting back before I reached retirement age. At which I point I discovered via the medium of local radio, that the queue was now so long that it had backed up right past my home junction up, coincidentally, where I was now. And yep, there it is, the fucking queue again. I've managed to end up back at the end of it again. Oh happy days, that's just fucking perfect.

By the time I got home I had been out for over three hours and nothing to show for it but a noticable lack of petrol, a foul temper and a bladder that was quite possibly holding more water than the Hoover Dam. I loathe the M60. I loathe queues but most of all I loathe lorry drivers who are too fucking incompetant to keep their truck on the correct side of the road. And I am not alone in my loathing of her, there are thousands upon thousands of other motorists out there feeling the same, most of them still in their cars. If there is any such thing as karma she will be reincarnated as a dung beetle, destined to spend her miserable existence pushing balls of elephant turd across the African Plains and getting pissed on by hyenas.

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18 Responses

  1. If there is any such thing as karma she will be reincarnated as a dung
    beetle, destined to spend her miserable existence pushing balls of
    elephant turd across the African Plains and getting pissed on by hyena.You're being rather kind, aren't you.

  2. She's always kind. It's what we love about her….

  3. Ha! The trouble is that if I pretend to be nice I just come across as slightly unhinged so it's best not to even try……

  4. And that's what I was thinking by the time I'd got home and had a glass of wine. At the point where I had been sat on the motorway for 2 hours, needing a pee, my thoughts were running more along the lines of having her sent to Hades to spend eternity being prodded by little devils with pitchforks and having to listen to Cliff Richard's Greatest Hits forever.

  5. and having to listen to Cliff Richard's Greatest Hits forever.Now that's just too bad to wish on anyone…

  6. I've twice been in cars with gals in LA traffic who just opened the door and squatted in the road. Not trailer park slappers either but regular people. Highway travel is becoming as dehumanizing as air travel,

  7. I'd be lting if I said I didn't give it more than a passing thought. However the traffic was stationary so had I done that, I'd have been viewed by about 200 people, all of whom I'd have had to studiously try not to make eye contact with for an hour or so until the traffic got moving again. Being British, the thought of that sort of social torture was worse than the thought of exploding in my own car. So I didn't.

  8. Same situation with these girls. They were both drinking beer though which probably contributed to both their desperate need to micturate and their eventual lack of caring about who saw them. Plus it's LA.

  9. [esto es genial]

  10. Is there a lot of roadside urination going on in LA? Blimey, they don't show you that on the TV ads do they?

  11. Just much showing of arse

  12. This has been a very interesting conversation so far. And who the devil is Cliff Richards?

  13. This has been a very interesting conversation so far. And who the devil is Cliff Richard?You don't really want to know, Patricia.

  14. That's it. Time to Google! ; )

  15. Don't say you weren't warned, then…

  16. You must have heard of Cliff Richards! I'll give you a small biog – born in the year 1233, Cliff started churning out his particular brand of saccherine filled cheese in the early part of the 14th century, scoring his first number one hit during the reign of Henry VIII, a ballad entitled "I love fluffy kittens and women but in a non-sexual way because I'm very clean living". Since then he has been regularly testing the sugar tolerence of the people of Britain and is now a firm favourite with ladies 'of a certain age' who have been known to scalp, tar and feather anyone who dares to disparage their idol. There is a rumour that MI5 are investigating Cliff to find out whether his longevity is down to drinking the blood of virgins but it is unconfirmed.

  17. Sounds like an interesting guy, Vic. I think we should interview him for our mag. Speaking of I'm writing a group email now…

  18. If you want to interview him, make sure you're wearing garlic and a crucifix. I'm fairly sure his 'way with the ladies' is achieved through some sort of witchcraft. I can think of no other explanation. Will keep my eye out for the group email!

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