My fellow citizens of St
Albans have embraced the snow with their customary resilience and fascist
liberalism. Sledges from BMW’s 4-by-4
range are being tugged along the streets by many a fleece-adorned, middle-aged
parent. They might be stealing trays
from McDonald’s in nearby Borehamwood, but here we approach our snow transport
with class and affluence.
While their actual “St
Albans tractors” were parked in drives and garages over the weekend - ready to
glide effortlessly through the snow on Monday morning at normal speeds of 40
mph in 30 mph zones, scathingly dismissive of fucking over-cautious plebs in
smaller vehicles like myself - the pavements and parks became a play-zone of plush
plastic people-carriers. Sledges
designed to carry 2.4 children. Parents,
the same thoughtless cunts who won’t park between 2 lines outside supermarkets
and won’t park at all outside schools, expecting childless pedestrians to
indulge their territorial aspirations to own the pavement. Sorry, my children are sledging here, please
walk around us.
One exception, but superior
in arrogance, was a tosser local to me who preferred to pull his child’s sledge
along the road. I am guessing that he is
from a pocket of residence near to where I live, who for the rest of the year
makes a point of reclaiming the road outside his house to play cricket with his
kids. If he lived in a cul-de-sac, then
fair enough. But it’s a through-road. Cars arrive every few minutes, slow down and
wait for this family of fascist liberals to make way. My message to you, sir, is fuck off and live
in a village. This is a town. In fact, it’s a small city. Roads are for cars, not for jumper-wearing fucktards
with delusions of rustic freedoms.
