Serendipidy-doo-dah man!
I'm currently residing on the tropical island of Antigua. I'd been for a haircut from my friend Milo AKA Colin "The Cuts" Williams and on the way home had called in at the Rose End Bar for a pint or two of Redstripe with my old pal LesRoy the Gravedigger.
At Christmas my mate Paul had sent LesRoy some clothes over from Hartlepool and I'd been tasked with finding out how Peacock's finest were standing up to tropical life. When he's not digging last resting places LesRoy works as an "odd-job man" at the local mortuary. What being an oddjob man at a mortuary in the Lesser Antilles involves I've never had the stomach to ask, but it was clear tonight LesRoy was bringing some of his work home with him. Perhaps there'd been a leakage from one of the customers or something, but whatever it was, it was all down the front of his Hartlepool Utd shirt. And on his hands too, I noticed, as he clamped my pinkies in his vicelike grip. Anyway we had a very jolly hour, LesRoy told me about dealing with the putrifed remains of some African fishermen who's been found on the wrong side of the pond basted in the filthy bilge water of their fishing boat for three months. Heady stuff, and the smell of embalming fluid hung heavy on his breath.
When I got back to home I thought I should probably wash my hands before preparing the evening's snap. I know nobody bothers washing hands at Le Mans, but it seemed only right to give them a quick rinse before I prepared a Valentine's supper of boiled ox tongue and goat water stew. Stood at the sink, I heard the sound of a light truck losing control on the steep hill and glanced up in time to see 400 breeze blocks become airborne, loosely attached to a KIA light commercial. Overloaded by a multiple of two, the poor driver had lost control when the wretched vehicle jumped out of first gear and in an act of total futility that would have even brought a smile to the lips of miserable Henri Pescarolo, he'd tried to take the racing line on the 90 degree left. I could see he wasn't going to make it, mainly on account of being four feet in the air. It was at this point, to quote Hoffnung, that he met the barrel coming the other way...
The truck rolled onto it's side spilling it's contents, as it smashed over a boulder. I could see the cab was flattened on the offside. The hapless driver made good his involunatary escape by using his head to push out the windscreen. He was flung across the road and landed in a cloud of dust on his back. It's hard to know what's going on in the mind of a man who's upside down in the air being chased by a lorry load of breeze blocks, but his facial features appeared to profess a degree of puzzlement. A once-magnificent spliff was still dangling from his bleeding bottom lip, but apart from a few scrapes he was pretty much okay. Initially I'd no idea whether there was anyone trapped in the crushed cab and was unsure whether to call an ambulance or just cut out the middleman and get Lesroy up here sharpish. Fortunately it was a left hand drive truck and nobody else was involved so I turned the engine off, which had the happy additional benefit of silencing the awful dubstep he was listening to, I think it was a Rodigan mash-up rather like this. Indeed I'm fairly sure the guy in the natty red jacket at (51 seconds) is our driver.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQdIiEUFtqkThere being no other injuries, I thought it encumbent of me to take a few holiday snaps, oh and check out what rubber he was running... inspection confirmed my initial thoughts; the man is an idiot. He had mixed a Roadian with a Goodwear on the front axle and the back was shod with Long March from the Qingdao Odyking Tyre Company, the other side with Shandong Wanda Boto-X, which as we all know, is a recipe for disaster.
On the phone to the truck's owner. "It wasn't my fault boss, I did it like you told me..."
