what is the reason, i hear you cry, for my awareness that my heart is beating overly quickly and for the fact that i will probably need to go outside soon and start a dangerous new habit by smoking a box of cuban cigars?
the reason, you hear me reply, is warwick bastard parking.
now, what is the need for several spaces to be cordoned off without apparent reason – for example, the entire health centre road, which will doubtless be of wonderful help to those attempting to move their stuff out of halls? what is the need for the sports centre car park to be constantly populated by a drone army of girls with stupid mullets, senselessly walking up and down dangling keys but never reaching a car? what is the need for the man who finally, reluctantly agrees that i can have the space which he is about to vacate - how kind - to then proceed to lean idly against his car wearing his stupid fucking raybans and shouting into his stupid mobile fucking phone about how much petrol his BMfuckingW is eating up as he drives endlessly back and forth between the squash courts and his home, which is probably in tocil anyway, the lazy bastard. and what is the need for my car, in absence of the power steering promised to me by honest fucking gary, yes guv it's got power steering no problem guv, to be about as easy to fit into one of those pissy sports centre car parking spaces as the exxon fucking valdez?