Hiding the kids from evil peedofils

Your scaly green correspondent was out shopping last week for a new motor vehicle as the present tank is getting a bit tatty and long in the tooth so time to get something new with which to annoy the eco-weenies.

As is normal with my car purcasing forays I already know what model and spec I want before I go to the shop and invariably see something shinier and buy that and this trip was no exeception as I was after a Toyota Landcruiser LC4 and ended up with a four month old fully tricked out Invinvible (piccies to follow when I pick it up later in the week).

Anyway I tootled around in it, in lieu of off-roading I drove it over a couple of speed bumps and flapped my dragony wings in joy when, on parking it back at the dealership, found it had a camera in the back so you can park the fucking thing. I also noticed that all the rear windows were darkly tinted (which, to be honest, made it look a bit like a pimpmobile) but I didn't give it much thought. Anyway Mrs D and I were back at the dealers on Saturday to sign the papers and make it quite clear to him that I did not require the optional Wombat Protection Insurance or the additional Beluga Whale Towing option so please take those off the bill you commission junky. A little hiccup happened in that we realised that the MOT* had expired on the car I'm trading in so being as I'm about to spunk 30-odd thousand on the new thing they booked us in then and there and leant us a Verso for a couple of hours. Quite a nice medium sized family runabout with a start button which was cool and a dashboard that looked link Bang and Olufsen has designed it. But yet again it had those tinted rear windows.

It was only that evening over dinner Mrs Dracunculus says "you know what, those tinted windows they're doing now are really sad."

"How come?" says I.

"Well you notice the two cars we'v ebeen driving have lots of seats for sproglets in the back? Well the tinted glass is there to stop evil nasty peedofils looking at your kids on the school run."

Bloody hell she's right. This is EXACTLY what its for and there is obviously the demand for it - I also notice that its only fitted to the more expensive models for each marque so it's also a subtle marketing ploy of "if you want to protect your kids then you should really by the LX instead of the L model". The sales guy obviously never brought the glass issue to our attention as we quite clearly did not have little hatchlings in tow.

Now how utterly fucked in the head to you have to be to think that peedofils are waiting to look at your kids through your car window, not only that but it is such a threat you need to have smoked glass in the back of your motor!

On the other hand top marks to Toyota for spotting that gap in the market.




* roadworthyness document for my non UK reader.

AA - about as useful as a bunch of alcoholics

Had all the makings of a lovely evening last night - clear skies, clear light, funny Bill Bryson book on the train home and Mrs D called to say that she'd done the stables and made the feeds up.

So I get off the train in a good mood to find I have a flat tyre. Boo.

Oh well, minor setback. I rummage around in the boot, dig out the spare and the as-yet unused wheel jack and do the necessary nut removal duties. Now normally at this point the wheel comes off. Not on my car it doesn't. I yank and pull and arse around with it for a while but can't get it off. Oh well, better admit defeat and call the AA.

Ring Ring - You are in a queue and will be answered shorty.

Ring Ring - You are in out highest priority queue and we will get to you very soon

Ring Ring - Honest, we are going to get to you very soon.

Ring Ring - Er... maybe you could gather some wood and light a fire, you're going to need to keep warm as we're not actually going to answer the phone for ages.

Fifteen fucking minutes I'm waiting, only for some giggling numpty to tell me that the earliest I can expect to see the little yellow van is in two hours. "I'll be there .... You've got a friend" go the adverts. Well it looks like you won't be here any time soon and you're certainly no friends of mine you useless pricks.

I am so fucking furious and cold at this point that I turn greener than normal, my shirt splits open (but not my trousers which is really uncomfy) and I grab the offending wheel, lean all my weight away from it, put the wings into beta pitch and flap really hard... and end up on my back in the car-park with the wheel from a Saab 9-3 on top of me.

Oh well... at least it worked. Spare goes on and then I start to drive home and put in a call to the AA on the handsfree. It'll take fifteen minutes to get home so I imagine that I'll finally get through when I'm pulling into the garage.

Ring Ri... hello this is Sharon speaking.

Fucking ace... through in about 10 seconds... now my happiness is complete.

Wonder if the RAC are any better