A different kind of F.U.N.

Cast your eyes back to the days of Hampstead village , of chickens in the garden and wheel less cars , of bright shiny traffic beacons placed strategically on your car roof and pot plants in your parking bay and then recall with clarity that heavenly body, that massive orb , that projectile vomiting inducing vision that could block out the sun …….. Yes let us have a moment to remember F.U.N. (Fat Ugly Neighbour).

Now what ghastly misfortune you ask yourself has forced me to return to this unhappy place, apart from the recurring nightmares and cold sweats spawned from the emotional scars left by hearing FUN pee at 4 in the morning, well it would appear that just as god created Adam and Eve the antichrist created FUN and FITGUN (foot in the grave ugly neighbour) with whom I had first encounter this morning.

Apparently FITGUN is of the opinion I drive too fast out of the complex in the mornings (I can only assume she must also get giddy at the breakneck speed mustered by a sloth under the threat of weariness ) . I drive a chico 1.3 (although it is red in colour which I am told creates the illusion of speed I am sure this is only applicable to objects that are actually moving)


Now just to paint a picture for you ….

The red chico 1.3 not only has an aversion to mornings and cold weather and on the odd occasion to forward motion in general , it is particularly not fond of starting nor warming up hence the morning ritual of forcefully removing the choke from the dashboard in a vicious backward thrust powered purely out of frustration - and sometimes utilising the high degree of difficulty manoeuvre of both choke pulling while simultaneously banging ones head on the steering wheel and swearing like a seapoint prostitute (with no teeth – similarity borne out of the fact mine are now embedded in the steering wheel ) thereafter jerking back vigorously in a flurry of petrol fumes (momentarily passing out only to regain consciousness once the fumes dissipate ) only to engage in forward motion which could easily be likened to that of a severely brain damaged three legged rabbit .

So while I am spluttering and jerking and engaging my neck brace so as not to get whiplash - and in more danger of deafening the local children with my revving then I am of riding them over – in fact road kill could probably pull itself out of the way with its teeth before I reached it – fitgun scurries up to waggle a bony finger (must be filled with a sense of achievement that she could keep up with a such a swift car as mine - should have recommended she put herself forward for a new land speed record )
And reprimand me - I was floored - I tried to run her over but the chico cut out .

I mean, god help me , is the world filled with these brain dead morons that have so little in life that they create alter realities where they enjoy perceived superiority and conceptualise that their opinion actually matters .

Will have to find out where she lives and T.P. her house