| So thoughtful of them to put Stonehenge right on the A343. |
And 'B' is mostly just different levels of exasperating, but that's what you get when you pop 60 million lads and folk into a can of spam and label it England.
I'm sure the English are just doing the best they can with the archaic potholes surrounded by the occasional stretch of flat asphalt that they have been equipped with and for some inexplicable reason call 'roads', but they certainly don't put on a friendly reception to visitors.
People are doing the best they can, said Deepak Chopra. Plus, people are massive idiots, said me. They try to obliterate anything in their path with their heat seeking BMWs, and that's just not cricket.
| Not much of a hedge fan. |
There are no speed limits on the moronways. There seems to be a wide range of speed options available on various signposts along the way but these are rarely adhered to, and only at one's discretion.
I believe the object of the race is to double the number you see on the signpost on the side of the racetrack, times it by your favourite number and that will provide you with an appropriate rate of motion for the conditions presented to you.
It would be fine if any of them knew how to drive, park, indicate, merge, overtake, reverse or drive like a fucking normal person, but, alas.
To their credit, the British don't beep their horn at you, no matter what you do to them. Because they're British, and beeping would be terribly impolite. They'll annihilate your car to a diesely pile of rubble, but they are well mannered enough to not beep.
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