British Bulldog

(NB: This blog has no boundaries - it CAN and WILL cross continental borders. Douchebags are rife everywhere in the world.)

My mother told me an interesting story yesterday. She was driving down a street in London (for those unfamiliar with UK city side roads, they're essentially two-way streets that only have room for one car to go down at a time because cars are parked on both sides) and was two-thirds of the way down the street when this big, white van came sailing down from the other end.

My mother continued, seeing as she was well past the halfway mark and there was no visible empty street parking spot for her to slide into. The white van also continued at an alarming speed before screeching to an abrupt halt (because the fucker was about to hit her).

The toothless wonder then signals at my mother to move HER car back. Yes, dipshit here wanted a woman to back more than two-thirds of the way down a street when she already had the right of way.

Typical protocol would have been for the lazy, common piece of horse excrement to back his shitmobile out and let the lady through.

But NOOOOOOO. Instead, after a few moments of signaling for the other to move, this deranged guy puts his car into park, pulls out a book and begins to read.

My mother doesn't have the best eyesight in the world, so she probably failed to see that he had the book, most likely Ryan Giggs' autobiography or something of that ilk, upside down. We all know that most people in white vans who behave like this are illiterate, right? That's a given.

Thankfully, another car came up behind my mother, now putting the jerk-off into a predicament - it was now 2 against 1. And the car behind my mother had a man in it, who was less patient than my sweet mother. The bloke got out, yelled a few obscenities, and then Man-In-A-Van-Who-Can't-Read was forced to back out.

The icing on the cake is that my mother flipped him off and called him an asshole on her way out.

Good for you mom. What a big sack of douche.