The friends you make in passing...
Discussion
There I was this afternoon gently navigating the old Swedish barge around the M25, window down and not a care in the world. In fact, thinking about it,I have nothing at all in the world, but I digress.
Sitting in the usual Friday afternoon traffic, a fine upstanding young man lent out of the passenger window of a wonderful looking Transit, and without introduction shouted, "Oi! It's a f******* plane clothes f******* pig" "Oi f******** copper, f*** off!" It dawned on me that I was wearing a white t-shirt, so a pretty easy mistake to make I guess.
So pleased was he to see me in fact that he insisted I have one of his cigarettes, which I thought was very good of him. In his eagerness, he must have forgotten that he'd already smoked the best part of it, but was a truly fine shot and ended up where the sun rarely shines.
Not wishing to disappoint the gentlemen, I searched frantically for the gift, but by the time I'd found it and managed to deal with it his van had sadly headed off into the sunset, and as I was leaving the motorway at the next junction I was never able to say "thank you".
I hope if you read this, whoever you are, that you haven't taken offence at my apparent lack of appreciation and lets hope we meet again in order that I can put this dreadful faux pas aside, and give you the thanks you truly deserve.
T4arrrgh
Sitting in the usual Friday afternoon traffic, a fine upstanding young man lent out of the passenger window of a wonderful looking Transit, and without introduction shouted, "Oi! It's a f******* plane clothes f******* pig" "Oi f******** copper, f*** off!" It dawned on me that I was wearing a white t-shirt, so a pretty easy mistake to make I guess.
So pleased was he to see me in fact that he insisted I have one of his cigarettes, which I thought was very good of him. In his eagerness, he must have forgotten that he'd already smoked the best part of it, but was a truly fine shot and ended up where the sun rarely shines.
Not wishing to disappoint the gentlemen, I searched frantically for the gift, but by the time I'd found it and managed to deal with it his van had sadly headed off into the sunset, and as I was leaving the motorway at the next junction I was never able to say "thank you".
I hope if you read this, whoever you are, that you haven't taken offence at my apparent lack of appreciation and lets hope we meet again in order that I can put this dreadful faux pas aside, and give you the thanks you truly deserve.
T4arrrgh
deltaf said:It's where you sell a dummy to the driver in front, pretending to pass on one side & then at the last minute, swerve to the other side & overtake there. Literally means "false pass"
Oh BTW, whats a faux pas? ![]()
For the real meaning - see http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=faux%20pas
mungo said:
What a tosser!
It's at times like that a handy bag of faeces would have been nice to throw back through his window as a show of appreciation
yeah but how often do you have one to hand so to speak, mind you I see loads of people walking around my village with little bags of poo....and they always seem to have a dog with them

My dad used to tell the greatest story before he told off by my mother
He was courting a lady and was into his motor-cyles at the time. He had a Harley Styled bike which wasn't a Harley and was riding to see his then g/friend (not my mother
), anyway, some blokes emptied the ash-try from their car in his face and he wasn't best impressed.
Now my dads not a violent bloke, and he not easy to annoy but this time he followed them for about 5 miles directly into the estate where they parked up. Apparently the car was trying to get away but dad was on a nice motorbike!
So anyway, there he was in the same estate, just down the road from the hooligans when he gets of his bike, and knocks on his g/friends door! Apparently the blokes where shitting themselves and weren't there when he came back out a couple of minutes later.
Ahh, the stories my dad tells

He was courting a lady and was into his motor-cyles at the time. He had a Harley Styled bike which wasn't a Harley and was riding to see his then g/friend (not my mother
), anyway, some blokes emptied the ash-try from their car in his face and he wasn't best impressed. Now my dads not a violent bloke, and he not easy to annoy but this time he followed them for about 5 miles directly into the estate where they parked up. Apparently the car was trying to get away but dad was on a nice motorbike!
So anyway, there he was in the same estate, just down the road from the hooligans when he gets of his bike, and knocks on his g/friends door! Apparently the blokes where shitting themselves and weren't there when he came back out a couple of minutes later.
Ahh, the stories my dad tells

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