A relatively minor accident yesterday morning doubled the duration and brought out the ugly commuter in everyone.
Guess where:
Considering I have not been late once for my radio-zapping (not official terminology) and was most keen on maintaining my spotless (imaginary) record, I wanted to know which incompetent motorist was responsible for the hold-up:
That's the price you pay for buying an oversized beer nut.
Never one to lose an opportunity, I shifted my focus to the many and varied advertised treats that might – if the traffic moves – be within the vicinity of happiness.
How can these visions of cheesy delight fail to excite?
Then a tiny flicker of sensibility emerges, a bare token of independent thought (click to enlarge, as usual):
And before I know it, I give a shit.
Update: One day later, that last sign has been removed.
Update: One day later, that last sign has been removed.
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