Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Rubbish swearing
Last night when I was cycling down St Martin's Lane to Charing Cross, a couple tried to cross the road ahead of me. They saw me and reacted in different ways.
She shrieked, laughed and tried to run across the road. He was rather more sensible and decided to hang back. Either action would have been fine apart from one thing: they were holding hands and between the pair of them they made a jolly good roadblock.
So, I rang my bell, slowed down (I wasn't going very fast anyway - I'm still fairly new) and then went around them but thought that a comment was called for. However, in the heat of the moment, my vocabulary deserted me and my brain decided on the limpest rubbish to shout:
"Daft cow!"
Daft cow? Who the hell says "daft cow"?
She shrieked, laughed and tried to run across the road. He was rather more sensible and decided to hang back. Either action would have been fine apart from one thing: they were holding hands and between the pair of them they made a jolly good roadblock.
So, I rang my bell, slowed down (I wasn't going very fast anyway - I'm still fairly new) and then went around them but thought that a comment was called for. However, in the heat of the moment, my vocabulary deserted me and my brain decided on the limpest rubbish to shout:
"Daft cow!"
Daft cow? Who the hell says "daft cow"?
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