Anger Management

I wanted 2017 be a good year compared to the debacle that was 2016 but so far it is proving to be as bad – if not worse.

I won’t elaborate yet but suffice it to say that I am struggling to contain my anger as well as the other negative emotions that are vying for position.

The good news is that I have a new framework for controlling them – but boy is it hard sometimes.  I want to focus in particular on anger, arguably the most negative and destructive of these emotions.

I have recently been driving to my hometown of Walsall quite a lot and this has been one of many sources of anger and frustration. The distance between Manchester and Walsall is approximately 75 miles and motorways cover all but about five of those miles. On a good day, in the past, the journey has taken me about an hour and fifteen minutes – which doesn’t seem that bad – does it?

The problem is that the main motorway that joins Manchester and Walsall is the M6, which is the worst motorway in the world – or at least in the north of England (if I’m honest).

When I am driving between the two places, the motorway tries to make it as difficult as possible by pushing every single one of the hot buttons that make me angry when I am behind the wheel of a car.

The ensuing road rage is a sight to behold, particularly if you are watching from a distance. If it were a movie, you would grow fat on all of the popcorn you ate as you watched me devolve into a ranting Neanderthal version of myself.

Let me take you through some of the hot buttons.

First, there are major roadworks for four junctions near to Manchester, resulting in the speed limit being reduced from 70 mph to 50 mph. There are 17 miles of this nonsense. During this tedious distance several things happen. There is no hard shoulder so if a car or lorry breaks down or a car has an accident then the whole motorway grinds to an absolute standstill. The motorway is usually busy anyway so we all end up sitting there immobile for what seems like hours on end. Equally frustrating, cars and lorries overtake each other at approximately 35 mph sometimes slowing everybody down completely.

The M6 on a good day!!!

I have crawled along every single mile of that damned motorway at 10 mph! I know every bloody square inch of that motorway in intimate detail!

Next, the M6 is full of lorries. You have never seen so many lorries on a motorway. Some of these lorries travel at 55mph, which isn’t a bad thing until another lorry, just behind, decides to overtake at 56 mph. When this happens, some car drivers lose their minds and swerve into the fast lane without really looking. Others decide to overtake the overtaking lorry at 57 mph thus blocking the motorway for those of us who are in a hurry and travelling at 70 mph. This behaviour causes instant congestion and, depending on how busy the motorway is, can lead to irritating lengthy tailbacks.

Next, the M6 brings out the dick in many drivers’ heads turning them from normal human beings into complete dickheads. For example, there I was in the fast lane overtaking other cars in the other two lanes when Mr Dickhead came up behind me. I was travelling at around 70 mph and this moron roared up at 90 mph and got so close that I thought his car was trying to mate with mine. In my rear view mirror I could see him bashing his steering wheel in frustration. He started flashing his lights.

So where the fuck was I supposed to go? Next to me in lane two were lorries driving nose to tail. I couldn’t have pulled in if I had tried, at least not without causing a major collision.

Did he think my car was Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and could take off just to let him pass?

And these dickheads always seem to be driving a Mercedes or a BMW or an Audi. Is it a prerequisite of buying such a car that you have to mutate into a total dickhead when you get behind the wheel?

And then there’s the person who was in lane two approaching a junction. I was in the slow lane. Suddenly, he realised that he was going to miss his turn off and, without even looking went to shoot across my lane to escape the insanity of the motorway. Except I was there and this pillock was inches from side-swiping my car and causing a major accident. Thankfully, he realised at the last minute and swerved back, missing his junction and making my heart miss several beats.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg, dear reader. This post could have gone on for days and days but I think I had better rein myself in.

The journey generally takes at least an hour and a half with the record being two and a half hours, which included being stuck in the same place for 45 minutes while the emergency services cleared up an overturned caravan.

I am somehow managing the anger because I have my music (a useful tool for dissipating rage as described in my last post) and when the traffic comes to a standstill I tend to escape into a calmer place with mindfulness techniques.

Also, I can rant on this blog post – that’s a great anger management technique.

Therapy

Recent events have got me really angry. My normal grumpiness has become rampant and I have an urge to rant at everything I see on the news.

2016 has been, so far, a year I totally want to forget – and it’s not even over yet! I haven’t spoken to Mrs PM’s parents since Brexit because I know that I will say something to them that I regret, upsetting them, Mrs PM and even myself in the process. Mrs PM and her mum have already exchanged tense words resulting in Mrs PM slamming the phone down on her own mother.

My anger is building up so much that I am turning into Mr Angry, the person I mocked so mercilessly just a month or two ago.  As soon as I hear the news I start ranting. I have given up reading newspapers because they make me angry.

Grumpiness is one thing – rage is another and I am full of rage.

And I hate myself for it because this is not me – this is not the laid back guy I have known all my life.

I need a holiday and, thank goodness, I am off tomorrow to Nice, a beautiful city in the south of France.

And for that, I need to calm down before I set foot on French soil.

So to help me, I have been looking through some of my old photos to raise my spirits and try to forget names like David Cameron, Nigel Farage, Michael Gove, the Conservative Party, Donald Trump, Brexit and, yes, bloody England – the country that I love but the country that has pissed me off more in the past few months than it has at any time in my life – even more so than when Margaret Thatcher’s reign of terror was at its peak.

With that in mind, I thought I would share a couple of those photos with you, dear reader.

I hope you like them.

Hong Kong at Night

Tokyo - Barrels of Sake

Budapest - Hungarian Parliament Building

Rio de Janeiro - A Famous Statue

Rome - The Spanish Steps

 

A Temple in Kyoto

Kyoto - Lots of Torii

Santorini

Prague - Performing in front of an Old Church

A Big Cathedral in Barcelona

The Great Wall of China

That's better. I feel much calmer now. I need to be in a good frame of mind for packing so maybe I should do that too.

I am making a promise to myself here and now - I will not watch the news between now and 6am tomorrow when I have to be at the airport.

I'll leave with you with a tune that reflects my new found calmness and coincidentally is by my favourite band from France.



Au revoir et à bientôt, mes amis.

Mr Angry

Everybody has a moment when they become angry. I know I do and I’ve seen normally mild mannered individuals succumb to the red mist and explode in a flash of rage. Usually this is a rare occurrence.

However, the are some people who seem to spend their entire day in a perpetual state of fury, never resting from their wrath until they close their eyes to sleep, whereupon I’ll wager their dreams also involve stomping around shouting and screaming at every poor figment of their imagination.

I like to refer to people like this as Mr Angry or, in the case of ladies, Ms Angry. Let’s not forget that such illogical behaviour transcends gender.

I have worked with such people in the past. We all know a Mr Angry.

Mr Angry fails to control his temper and has a short fuse and the only reason he seems to be calm is because he is waiting for a random person to speak to him so that he can explode in rage.

Mr Angry is usually a bully who thinks that bellowing at people will somehow force them to behave in the way that Mr Angry wants.

Mr Angry also explodes when something trivial annoys him – like this man:

Personally, I hate being angry because ultimately that is undoubtedly a low point. It is a rare event, dear reader, and when I am possessed by rage, my mind isn’t clear and I am prone to say things that I will later regret. I am sure this is the same for everybody.

When this happens to me, I simply walk away from the target of my wrath as soon as I can. The symptoms can actually be physical – increased heart rate, anxiety, depression and high blood pressure are just some of them.

Some people may argue that it is sometimes beneficial to become angry in order to “let off steam” and while that may be true for the occasional hissy fit, I think that if you are constantly angry it can’t actually be that good for you.

Therefore I avoid it when I can – and if I can’t I simply run away from the source of my anger.

Okay, regular readers may say; “But hang on! You often rant and rave about things on this very blog!”

Yes, that is true, but it is a technique that I have honed, certainly over the past few years. Anger is pointless but the ability to “let off steam” on a blog allows me to vent my spleen in a controlled way without the adverse reactions associated with a full blown Incredible Hulk moment. And I enjoy it because I can inject a little humour into the mix.

This is also what I do at work; I strive to “let off steam” in a fun way, which allows people to laugh at me. It’s entertainment in a way.

People who know me really well consider me to be very laid back and this is the truth of the matter. I rarely genuinely lose control.

Yet I have seen people who thrive on this anger, maybe because they have had some success in the past as a result of it.

Here’s an example.

Many years ago, I was working in an edible oil production plant. We had supplied a process management computer system to the company and we were testing it in real time. I had heard of a man whom I shall refer to as Mr Banner (in a similar way to the Hulk) and that he was prone to moments of rage.

Yet whenever I had met him, he has been as nice as any person I had worked with. One day, we were running a test and something went slightly wrong.

We were all trying to find the problem and it was either a computer glitch or a problem with the equipment itself. We were in a control room above the equipment and we had to wear all the safety gear including hard hats and goggles to satisfy the Health and Safety police.

 I looked at the computer screen and after about five minutes of watching what was going wrong, I turned to the guys in the room and told them that I thought I knew what the problem was. We had a test system downstairs and I knew that I could confirm my hypothesis on that machine and actually fix the issue. I said, “Give me ten minutes.”

Now everybody in the room seemed to accept this – apart from Mr Banner. He glared at me and then he glared at each of the other guys in the room in turn.  Then, in a true Hulk moment, he pulled off his hard hat and screamed:

 “PPPPPPPPHHHHHHHAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!”

He hurled his hard hat at the floor and it bounced up with a noise that sounded like a firecracker. His face turned bright red and everybody in the room backed away from him. I stood there open mouthed in shock.

He walked to his hat, picked it up and I could see his inner struggle. I expected him to calm down but he didn’t! Instead, he picked it up again and hurled it across the room at the wall. I was expecting him to turn green but instead his face darkened to a weird crimson colour.

That was my cue.

I turned to the guy next to me who was also goggling in shock and said “I’m off to the test system!”

I left the room and went downstairs shaking my head in disbelief and half expecting Mr Banner to follow me. There was no way I was going to tolerate that kind of behaviour.

Thankfully, I was not followed.

Twenty minutes later, I had found the problem and returned to the control room with the fix. The rest of the day was fine and by then Mr Banner had returned to his normal calm self. I received no words of thanks and he behaved as if the episode had not happened.

What scares me about such behaviour is that it is unwarranted and also the perpetrator thinks that his antics will force people to bend to his will.

However, what makes me laugh about Mr Angry is the irrationality of it all and, sometimes, I have to walk away when I see Mr Angry in full flow, in case I burst out laughing and enrage him further.

Like in this video:

My advice to Mr and Ms Angry is to take a deep breath and walk away. That’s what I do – it works for me – unless Piers Morgan is on the TV.

The Sinner

I am not looking forward to dying.

Apart from the obvious pain involved I think that I might just be in a bit of trouble when I finally meet my maker. Why? Because I have sinned.

Those of you who are atheists will almost certainly say:

“You are a stupid idiot. When you die, you cease to be. Remember that time before you were born? You can’t can you. Why? I’ll tell you why. You simply didn’t exist. And that is exactly what will happen when you shuffle off this mortal coil. You will cease to exist. Sinning is irrelevant.”

Those of you who are religious in any way will probably say:

“Why? What have you done? Surely it can’t be that bad. God will forgive you.”

I am a Roman Catholic. When I say “am” I really mean “was baptised”. I stopped going to Mass when I was sixteen and have only popped back for weddings and funerals.

I think the reason I did so was because I found it all terribly boring. When I used to go to church, the main High Mass on Sunday was at 11 o’clock and sometimes in Latin. I studied Latin at school but to sit there for an hour and a half listening to “Credo in unum Deum, patrem omnipotentem …” sung out of tune by an old priest who was out of touch with my youthful exuberance was just too much.

I almost fell out with my mother because of my rebelliousness.

Roman Catholics will probably tell me that I should renew my faith and go back to church to have my sins forgiven. I can imagine sitting there in confession:

“Bless me father for I have sinned. It is 32 years since my last confession. I hope you have a month or three to spare because boy have I got some stories to tell you.”

I can honestly say that I won’t do that. If Catholics are to be believed then I when I die I will face my maker who will sentence me to a stint in Purgatory where I will be cleansed of my sins with pain and fire.

In fact, as my soul is being cleansed in the punishment camps of Purgatory, somebody will probably read this blog post to me and tell me that I have sinned simply by writing it. The fact that I haven’t attended Mass for so long and have actually mocked my religion and made fun of priests will undoubtedly lead to a lengthier sentence.

But have I really sinned?

Let’s take a look at the seven deadly sins and see how I have fared.

PRIDE

What is pride?

Pride is extreme self believe or vanity or self obsession. From a religious perspective, pride is really focussing on yourself rather than God. Purists will suggest for example that if you pursue knowledge for the benefit of God or others then you are doing fine. However, if you learn for your own benefit only, to basically say that you are better than others then I’m afraid you are on the slippery slope to committing this deadly sin.

The sin of pride is a particular grey area for me and I personally believe that deep down every single person is guilty of it – myself included. I write this blog for example so that people can read it and be entertained or learn something. However, I also write it for myself because I want to practice my writing techniques so that, in an ideal world, I will write a book and obtain steaming great piles of cash and fame from being a successful writer. God doesn’t come into it. That’s why I am committing the sin of pride.

VERDICT: I’m stuffed on this one.

ENVY

What is envy?

Envy is the dislike of somebody who has something you don’t have, for example a possession or a job. If a mate of mine were to win the lottery I would be happy for him but, for a moment at least, I would hate him for it. Why? Because he would be free and be able to cast aside the chains that bind him to the interminable rat race that I am so desperate to escape from myself.

And I cannot believe that there are people out there in the world who do not commit the sin of envy. I frequently hear people say “I envy you” but the fact that they come clean and say it to make the other person feel better doesn’t detract for a second from the fact that their opinion of that person plummets even if it is only for a second.

I envy people and I admit it. I don’t hate them permanently but I am jealous. I am jealous of successful authors. I am jealous of people who can afford the Ferrari that (once again) Father Christmas failed to bring me on his overloaded sleigh.

VERDICT: I’m screwed on this one.

GLUTTONY

What is gluttony?

Gluttony is the need to consume excessively. This post has come so close to Christmas that I am still smarting from the vast quantities of food that I have forced myself to eat. On Christmas Day I ate a dinner that was so huge there was snow on the peaks. I followed this up with mince pie and then chocolates. At the end of the day I was laid on the settee and couldn’t see my feet over my huge wobbling belly.

Next day I was relieved to see that my belly had shrunk somewhat but then it all started again when we travelled to Blackpool to visit Mrs PM’s dad.

Why did I eat so much? Because everybody else did. I am not the only one. Thankfully I am really quite slim which I could say is evidence that I have not committed the sin of gluttony. It is, however, poor evidence, because I know that I have been a greedy pig and will be again – and I’m not just talking about Christmas.

VERDICT: Dear oh dear! I think the jury will scream “Guilty, your honour” for that one.

LUST

What is lust?

Lust is the excessive desire for pleasures of the flesh.

This particular sin is just plain ridiculous. Since the age of around thirteen my body has been betraying me in this particular area and I simply couldn’t help it – I still can’t. I craved sex from that age. I am a man and testosterone floods through my body creating a chemical reaction that has visible side effects. It is only will power and self control that stops me and just about every male from wanting their wicked way with attractive women. Men are driven by lust. There is no use denying it. Women too can be driven by lust (or so I’ve been told).

Maybe the key word here is “excessive”.

One thing makes me laugh. When people get checked into clinics for “sex addiction” I think to myself “Crikey! I must be a sex addict too.” If the sex police had injected me with a truth serum when I was eighteen years old and asked me “What do you desire more than anything in the world?” I would have blurted out “SEX! SEX! SEX! SEX! SEX! SEX!”. They would have carted me off to the clinic to cure me of sex addiction alongside every single other eighteen year old man as well.

VERDICT: They are building the gallows for me now.

WRATH

What is wrath?

Wrath or anger is a negative and potentially destructive emotion that inflicts every single human being on the planet – and most other creatures too.

There are quite a few things that make me angry. I am fairly laid back and on the rare occasions that anger overwhelms me, I try to control myself, mainly because I hate the consequences. That doesn’t mean that I will pick up the nearest blunt object and bludgeon the target of my wrath to within an inch of their lives. What I hate about anger are the arguments and the perpetuation of arguments.

When I am genuinely angry I tend to explode like a mini nuclear bomb and then get the hell out of there. Rather than letting anger take control of my body I allow a certain amount to erupt against the source of the anger (usually a tirade of abuse) and then I walk away and allow the rest to dissipate. In fact, I find that writing provides a great outlet. If I convert my wrath into vitriolic words, the anger flows out, enabling me to read about and process the source.

Others use different ways to get rid of their anger, some acceptable others totally unacceptable.

Every human being is different but the key thing here is that every human being gets angry and those that say they do not are liars.

VERDICT: I would be in the Tower of London now if Henry VIII was my judge.

GREED

What is greed?

Whereas gluttony is the desire to stuff huge quantities of food down your gullet, greed is the desire for material possessions. From a religious perspective the added caveat is that it is material gain for yourself while ignoring God and the spiritual realm.

We all want bigger and better things for ourselves. A lot of the time we want a bigger house, a bigger car, more money, a yacht and many other things that make our lives just that little bit easier. I have said, many times, that I want to win the lottery so that I can escape the rat race and live my dreams. I want to travel the world and write books about my exploits. Is that greed?

This is another sin that I think is a little nebulous. We all want material possessions – even priests.

VERDICT: The axe man draweth near.

SLOTH

What is sloth?

Sloth is the evasion of physical work. Moreover, from a religious perspective, it is the avoidance of spiritual work.

I am lazy by nature but I have a job which demands a lot of my time. When asked to do extra work I am usually willing to do so (to a limit) and have been praised for it.

Yet when it comes to chores around the house I am truly lazy. The only reason I do stuff is because the alternative is less desirable – an argument with Mrs PM.

VERDICT: I think the jury might be struggling with this one unless they look at spiritual sloth, in which case I am as guilty as a cat whose mouth and whiskers are covered in cream.

Well, dear reader, it looks as if I am going to be sentenced to a little fire and brimstone when my time on this little blue planet is over. A stint in Purgatory seems inevitable. I won’t really be able to argue because there are too many examples from my life to let me off the hook.

The good news is that I think I will be in good company because I reckon that most if not all of the human race will be by my side as I am purged of my sins.

My only hope is that people like Jeremy Kyle or Piers Morgan are next to me so that I can see the smug grins wiped off their faces as we all suffer.

It's All Over The Front Page - You Give Me Road Rage!!

I want to attach a huge gun to my car. I’m not talking about the kind of gun that fires bullets. Instead this gun (or as I prefer to think of it “paint bazooka”) will fire huge globules of paint, mainly at cars whose drivers piss me off – that would be most cars then. I want this gun to sit on top if my car and to automatically rotate on my voice command and eject a massive blob of paint in a direction of my choosing and onto any adjacent car that causes me to descend into road rage.

I am normally a very placid and laid back guy, a man who tries to smile in the face of adversity. I am relaxed and, apart from the odd rant, I am a happy chap.

However, put me behind the wheel of a car, ask me to reach my destination quickly, throw in a little traffic congestion (just for a laugh) and then fill the roads with moronic drivers and pedestrians and you will see me mutate into a monster, a little like the Incredible Hulk but without the muscle and green transmogrification.

Why does this change occur? I don’t know. I’ve asked myself this question repeatedly. I am a very patient fellow and can normally cope with most situations. Yet put me into the middle of a traffic jam with inconsiderate arses on either side and I want to crush, kill and destroy.

A deep primeval rage surges from within and I become a ranting monster; I turn into “Road Rage Man”, the Mr Hyde to my normal Dr Jekyll.

So what annoys me about driving? Well under normal circumstances – nothing! It is the stupidity and selfishness of others that annoys me. Driving on at the weekend is sometimes a pleasurable experience and I sing and smile as I pootle along the roads without a care in the world. It’s when those thick drivers encroach on my happy driving experience that I lose my temper.

Here is a list of things that truly make me mad:

(1) Tail-gating: Joking aside, tailgating is one of the most dangerous bad habits that any driver can have. I sometimes wonder whether certain drivers take their brains out as soon as they enter a motorway slip road. When the motorway is busy, what usually happens is lane one is full of lorries and lane two is full of cars overtaking those lorries. If I drift into the fast lane to overtake those cars, I usually find myself behind a steady stream of other cars all travelling at the same speed. So when Mr Tailgater looms up behind me, there is usually absolutely nowhere to go. The lane inside is busy and full of traffic with little or no space to move into and in front there is another car, a safe distance away, who is the same distance behind the car in front of him. So when Mr Tailgater approaches my car, driving less than a foot behind me at 70mph, flashing his lights to try to force me over, I tend to lose my rag. Mr Tailgater typically drives a top of the range BMW and is a high powered businessman – you know the kind; the kind of man who screws up a company then escapes with a golden handshake. Well if you are reading this and you tailgate I have one thing to say to you: STOP IT!!!!!!

(2) Hogging the middle lane: Mr Hogger probably considers himself to be a safe driver. In the UK it is illegal to undertake, particularly on a motorway. So why does Mr Hogger continue on his merry way, driving at 60mph in the middle lane when there is absolutely no traffic in the slow lane? Now I’m sure Mr Hogger would argue that he his perfectly within his rights to do so and he may even say that he is travelling in the middle lane to save him from pulling out again when he encounters the car on the inside lane that is about a mile in front of him and in most cases travelling faster than him. I say to you, Mr Hogger, that you are driving dangerously. Why? Well, there are people like me who probably aren’t as sensible as I am who will lose their tempers with you. And to teach you a lesson, they will undertake and gesticulate at you, or they will shoot out behind you, crossing two lanes, and then cut you up as they return to the slow lane. But you probably won’t even notice will you? So if you are reading this and you hog the middle lane: PULL OVER!!!!!

(3) Sunday Afternoon Driving: Mr SAD is usually an old person who owns a car that can break the land speed record but drives it like it is a milk float. He is usually a pensioner and wears a hat in the car. WHY DO YOU WEAR A HAT???? Furthermore, Mr SAD will drive in a 30mph zone at 20mph ALL THE TIME. Why? When you are driving in a conurbation there is only one lane so people have to pull out facing the oncoming traffic to overtake you. If it is busy people can’t do this so you hold up traffic. And again, those with less patience than me will pull out and risk a collision with oncoming traffic – I’ve seen it happen – I’ve been the oncoming traffic. So if you are reading this: DRIVE FASTER AND TAKE OFF THE BLOODY HAT!!!!!!

(4) Dithering: Picture the scene. You want to turn right onto a main road (for Europeans and Americans this will be left). The traffic on the main road is fairly busy but there are gaps. At the front of the queue to turn right is Mr Ditherer. This careful driver takes an absolute eternity to pull out. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been stuck behind Mr Ditherer. I’ve wasted probably a year of my life screaming in frustration as I’ve watched him dither for what seems like an eternity. Even when cars have slowed down on the main road and flashed to allow him to pull out, he has dithered and dithered – and I have wasted another five minutes of my life. Three cars could have drifted out and he sits there dithering. So if you are reading this Mr Ditherer: TAKE YOUR TEST AGAIN!!! YOU CAN FAIL FOR DITHERING!!!!

(5) Bad Parking: Have you ever parked at a supermarket and returned to your car to find that somebody has parked right next to the driver’s side leaving about a millimetre for you to open the door and get in? Do these people have no sense of distance? Mr BP is either totally inconsiderate or just hopeless at parking. I have to go round to the passenger side and climb in usually injuring myself on the gear stick as I clamber into the driving seat. One time, I returned to my car to discover that Mr BP and his brother had parked either side of me. I am not making this up. I could not open either door and had to open the hatchback door and climb in through the back. Mr BP is also incapable of parking his car in an empty car park, usually straddling two places. This is fine until the car park fills up and you are driving around looking for that elusive last spot. So if you are reading this and you are a bad parker: PRACTICE AND HAVE SOME CONSIDERATION!!!! THE CAR PARK IS USED BY OTHER DRIVERS!!!!

(6) Extreme Road Rage: OK I may sound like a hypocrite here but I suffer from passive road rage – i.e. I rant and rave in the car and my screams of frustration are usually drowned out by Metallica or Judas Priest. However, there are certain people who take it a little too far and either bang on their horns or actually get out of their car and use threatening behaviour. I have encountered such a person who quite literally exploded because I didn’t pull off the second the light turned green. He drove right up behind me, shaking his fist, beeping his horn and flashing his lights. So if you are that person and are reading this: CALM DOWN!!!!! YOU WOULD HAVE SAVED ALL OF TWO SECONDS IF I HAD MOVED THE MICROSECOND THE LIGHT TURNED GREEN!!!!

(7) Failing to Indicate: The purpose of indicators is to tell other drivers where you intend to go. If you want to right you indicate right and if you want to go left – guess what? Yes that’s correct – you indicate left! You do not indicate left to go right or vice versa. One mistake that Mr Directionless makes is that he assumes other drivers are psychic! We are not. If you do not indicate, we do not know where you intend to go. The number of people who fail to indicate and then move without looking astounds me. Do they have a death wish? Mr Directionless, I implore you: USE YOUR BLOODY INDICATORS!!! I CANNOT READ YOUR MIND!!!! AND LEARN WHICH DIRECTION IS LEFT AND WHICH DIRECTION IS RIGHT!!!!!

(8) Dazzling: There is nothing more irritating than driving on a dark country road at night time and then having Mr Dazzler loom up behind you with his lights on full beam. Worse than Mr Dazzler is his friend Mr Lorrydazzler. Lorries have higher headlights so they illuminate the inside of my car entirely and blind me completely, as well as giving me a terrible headache. Mr Dazzler: TURN OFF YOUR BEAMS!!!!!

(9) Overtaking Lorries: On the motorway, lorries tend to travel slower than other vehicles. Sometimes they overtake each other, but when they do, they do so extremely slowly. A huge articulated lorry struggling up a hill on the motorway will be travelling at less than 50mph in the slow lane. So if another articulated lorry decides to overtake him travelling at 51mph, it will take an absolute eternity, cause congestion and give Mr Tailgater the chance to intimidate people like me. To the drivers of lorries: PLEASE DON’T OVERTAKE ON BUSY MOTORWAYS BUT IF YOU MUST, WAIT UNTIL THERE IS NO HILL!!!!!

(10) Stupid Pedestrians: I am particularly annoyed by youngsters who walk out in the middle of the road very slowly as I sit there waiting for them. I’m talking about teenage kids with attitude problems who glare at me as I glare at them. They assume that I won’t move and run them over. Believe me lads, the temptation is almost unbearable. And those pedestrians who are in the middle of the road as you turn left or right. They are usually crossing the road but appear like startled rabbits as you approach them, wandering whether they should move or go back. They end up standing there like idiots, waiting for me to run them over. JUST MOVE!!!

(11) Cyclists: I have cycled on a road and am aware that traffic can be very dangerous for cyclists. I try to be careful so that I don’t end up smeared over the bonnet of a car. However, there are cyclists who think they are invincible and weave in and out of slow moving traffic. Worse, there are cyclists who ride in the middle of the road oblivious to the queue of angry drivers behind them. Even worse are those idiots who cycle at night wearing no reflective gear and without lights. There are numerous occasions when I’ve only noticed these pillocks at the last minute and had to slam on my brakes to avoid crashing into them. Other cyclists pull out to get round parked cars without checking how many faster moving vehicles there are behind them. A message for cyclists: IF A CAR HITS YOU BECAUSE OF YOU STUPIDITY YOU WILL BE INJURED. IN A FIGHT BETWEEN A CAR AND A BIKE, THE CAR WILL ALWAYS WIN!!!!

(12) Finally, the most annoying people of all. These people make me furious even when I am not in a car. Picture the scene; you’re walking down the street when you suddenly start to feel the ground shake. You look around expecting to see buildings moving and then it appears about half a mile away: the dance car, usually driven by a complete arsehole. As the car approaches, the incredibly loud thumping scares local creatures and shakes houses to their very foundations. You see the driver, usually a young buffoon, moving his head in time to the dreadful dance music played at a volume that would make Ozzy Osbourne’s ears bleed. As the car passes, you see that he has a complete sound system occupying the rear of the car, with speakers that Metallica would think twice about using for a concert at Wembley Stadium. I can only surmise that these morons are deaf. If you are in a car it is much worse – because you can’t escape them. I have driven along listening to heavy metal at a fair volume and had one of these loons behind me playing music so loud that I have heard it above my own. No volume in my car is loud enough to drown out the sound of the dreadful crap coming from their car. When I arrive home I am deaf myself. I have two things to say to these guys: TURN THE BLOODY MUSIC DOWN!!!! PLAY SOME ROCK MUSIC INSTEAD!!!!!

That’s’ enough for now – I’m losing my patience just reliving the episodes of my life where I’ve encountered road rage.

I need to take a chill pill now as I am quite worked up. Breathe deeply, Dave, breathe deeply. It’s Sunday tomorrow – I could go for a nice drive. And if I encounter anybody in a car wearing a hat I might just cover his car in red paint fired from my new multi-directional paint bazooka.