This morning on the motorway, I looked over to my left and there was a woman in a brand new Ford Focus doing 110 miles per hour. With her face up next to her rear view mirror, putting on her eyeliner.
I looked away for a couple seconds. And when I looked back she was halfway over in my lane, still working on that makeup.
As a man, I don’t scare easily. But she scared me so much! I dropped my electric shaver, which knocked the meat pie out of my other hand. In all the confusion of trying to straighten out the car using my knees against the steering wheel, it knocked my mobile phone away from my ear, which fell into the coffee between my legs, splashed, and burned big Jim and the Twins, ruined the damn phone, soaked my trousers, and disconnected an important call.
Bloody women drivers!