widg‧et /ˈwɪdʒɪt/ [wij-it] -noun: Pointless ramblings from the New Forest. Obviously complete & utter Rubbish. Why must I contibute to all this endless talk about me? My self-indulgent knees, spilling themselves all over the internet. Obviously i am Jon and his hair, I AM HIM!

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Make It Bacon, Baby

Brmmmmm... Vroom Vroom Vroooommmmmm! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee! etc.

After fifteen years of vague and sporadic attempts to guide a boxy melange of metal, plastic and rotten, organic liquid across vast distances by randomly pawing at a bewildering variety of pedals, levers, pulleys & wheels; the moment has come. A decade since my last such experience; I sit clutching my slowly moistening documents until the under-glamorous lady-examiner takes me by my metaphorical ear to the waiting vehicle for a series of hastily rehearsed questions and a sheepish parp on the horn. A quick and pointy prompt leads me to conclude that to have the best chance of not failing, or indeed dying, it might work in my favour to switch on the road brighteners.

By the time I can see where I'm going we're already halfway round a roundabout, and twenty feet up in the air, about to career through a huge, stained glass window that will cut me all to shreds. At least that's what I imagine until I pluck up the courage to open my eyes and find that I'm nearly done. My only remaining obstacle being the infamous 'Mountain of Death', or, more accurately, 'The Shallow Incline of Backwards Rolling & Likely Stalling' followed by 'The Rounded Corner of Mildly Restricted Vision'. I sail (drive, surely?) through them all with drooping colours (amongst other things) and shoddily drop anchor/trousers/handbrake at the centre of all testing; coming to rest at an angle that I like to think is, at the very least, quirky, if not downright jaunty.

I claim my shiny, pink & plastic booty and engage in an introverted round of victory hand-jiving with my well-impressed instructor. As my chauffeur takes me home, the sky fills with slowly falling daisies, owls with trendy haircuts and no thumbs give me a thumbless thumbs-up. Skipping bunnies, prancing badgers & boggling ponies come to congratulate me, before being tidily squished under my glistening wheels.

But, of course, I am only allowed one, lonely day of happiness & animal maiming, before my joy is crushed under the weight of the hulking great calves of the next day's evil news... to be continued... duh duh duh!

Currently listening: Don't Try This At Home by Billy Bragg


Blogger Jennie-Dee said...

Ahh, you and yer jaunty angles!

"Don't Try This At Home" - how very appropriate!

11:59 am


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