Cars, Cameras And Cows That Shit Cash

I love driving. I fucking love it. I’m what you might call a petrolhead. Which is why it broke my heart to sell my beloved Clio 172 last year in favour of a motorised lawnmower (otherwise known as a Seat Ibiza). The reason for this? Speed cameras. Now, don’t get me wrong – I’m a responsible driver. I’ll only run over people who look like burglars. But I was caught twice, in quick succession, doing 37mph on a deserted four lane road by one of the bastard tinpot cash cows masquerading as a bush. The consequence of this was that I had six points added to my licence and my insurance went through the roof. So I had to trade my car in for a Tonka toy.

I have nothing against speed cameras in the right places, for example, in front of schools. Of course, this means that the driver will be staring at his speedometer as he approaches the danger area, dramatically increasing the likelihood of him missing the lollipop lady and scattering children like bowling pins, but it’ll keep the parents’ association happy. What I do have a problem with are random cameras, situated in pointless places along the M4, because they’re ‘accident blackspots’ (bearing in mind, that someone jumping off a bridge into the oncoming traffic below is classified as an accident).

Anyway, the point I was going to make is that my crappy Seat, which will only do 0-60 if it’s being towed, actually drinks more petrol than the Clio. So much so, that I don’t think I’m actually saving any money. I’ve therefore joined the Pipeline Card scheme, which is pushing to get cheaper petrol for members. The idea behind it is strength in numbers, so I implore anyone reading this to do the same. It’s not going to get you to work any faster and it’s not going to save you from the Gatsos, but it might just save you a bit of dosh.

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