Snow and Bastards with Posh Sledges

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.