Whimsy On A Wednesday brings you the comedic chaos of canvas, crunches and craters!

You’re lucky I’m still here because life in the UK has become seriously difficult to navigate. 

Potholes. Not just a few but many. It’s so comical it almost feels like I’m in a Japanese game show. Except it isn’t funny because it knackers up your car. I know so many people who have had punctures, broken alloys, and much worse. This is all because the councils have gone a bit bankrupt. You see, it was more important to feed the fat cat paper pushing pansies at the top than fix the roads. Roads that we pay road tax for. If you’ve watched Clarkson’s farm then you know how our councillors behave.

Talking of Clarkson

I could have done with him making me a more robust truck, like the cars they modify on Grand Tour. I need something to deal with real life Mario Kart.

Honestly, I’m taking my life in my own hands every time I go out. Especially when I make my way to pilates. 

The class I attend is three villages away and that means I have to drive through winding, skinny roads in the pitch black because there are no street lights. Why have lights on the roads you’re most likely to die on? Right.

So, it’s generally pretty nightmarish anyway but add in a whole load of potholes and it’s like venturing into a minefield with a blindfold on. First off, I’m having to drive in the middle of the road to avoid them. I have to have full beam on so I can see. I’m trying to navigate any oncoming traffic, my lights, my road position, and craters. By the time I get to pilates I’ve spent all of my core strength behind the wheel. And then I have to drive back home doing it all again! God help you if it’s been raining, which I think it has been for the last six months, because then the holes are filled with water like dirty tricks. 

You’d think it would be easier in the day, which it is because there’s light. However, at this time of year you have baby bunnies, grouse, and pheasants crossing the road. Pheasants are particularly stupid and run backwards and forwards like a death wish. I honestly think they’re in on the joke.  I am inbuilt with an absolute protection to all animals and would die if I ran over a bunny. Have you ever tried to play dodge ball in a truck on a creviced, English Country road? I should be knighted. 

And what do us British people do about this problem? Do we stop paying our road tax? Do we kick off and start pea-shooting the House of Commons? No. We bitch and whine about it to our friends (see above) drink too many pints at the pub, take it out on our kids, pets, spouse, other. Get into fights, tell everyone if it wasn’t for the French we’d be moving to France, look up the cost of living in Spain, and try and make the council pay for the damage even though they have no money. Some do that anyway, even though they don’t have a car, because there’s nothing like a Brit when it comes to money-making scams. 

Talking of wankers…

There’s a new artist on the block. However, he’s been around before and news has it that he’s back but getting a bit sick and tired of the level of work he now faces.

“When demand gets too much your art starts to suffer.”

No, it’s not Banksy, it’s Wanksy.

This revered artist has returned with wily tactics to shame the council into road repairs. 

Talking of road trips…

I came across this lovely shot of my friend and I on a trip to Welsh Wales.

It just so happens that my lovely friend in that picture there contacted me the other day asking to see Tex and his sex-o-lettes. Who am I to argue with such genius? 

Travoltex?