Being perfect and impotent I was somewhat displeased to have one of our local 'federals', not least one in an unmarked Ovlov, feel he was worthy to talk to me let alone pull me over to do so when I was about important business and stuff. I was driving down one of my motorways, for they are mine as I have an RS4 and a Breitling, but it seems that some bloke he called "his chief constable" had deemed that he should coast along seeking out people who don't follow something he called "the law". Can't say I knew what he was on about but when I saw the blue lights in his nose I thought he wanted an autograph and as I was in a good mood felt I would do the 'normal' a good deed and write on something he valued. To then be affronted by him talking down to me as if I was, I believe he called it "a member of the public" whilst mentioning something about 86 to 92 mph on a busy motorway at 4.30pm I was of course somewhat put out. I explained that I don't normally sit in Swedish cars, not least grey ones with loads of arials on the roof. He said it was obvious I was a good sort (I put him right on that and reminded him of the Sir he should use when addressing a member of the licho-stock-ra-see) and he wished me a fine day and to be careful when I alighted his vee-hick-ul with nothing more than a blue bit of paper called 'A warnin'.
Seems he got out of bed on the right side and I was, once more, a loookeee ****
Seems he got out of bed on the right side and I was, once more, a loookeee ****
