Driving back up through France on Monday, it was noticeable how many French police were hiding behind bushes, under bridges etc. with speed cameras. I was a good boy, but obviously many were not. Got this quoted in an email today:

Quote:

A mate of another mate obviously had a bit of trouble on the way back.....



Le Mans? The thieving faced Frog took 45 Francs, or Euros or whatever their comedy money is called now, from us on the trip home for allegedly driving too fast on one of their , pathetic, British liberated roads.

The monkey-faced, semi-literate, goon-ish supposed cop that flagged us down reckoned that we were doing 115 kilometers, or whatever ridiculous, garlic-reeking unit of distance measurement the cheese eating surrender monkeys use these days, per hour and that the speed limit was a stupidly low 90 as if we should know, or even be interested in, what stoopid laws they may have made up to govern their mickey-mouse country of dids, pikeys and horse worriers.

Obviously we were trying to drive as fast as we could; we were on our way to leave their fly-blown, fetid nation as quickly as possible.

The Frog cars in front of us were waved through and it was obvious that they were only stopping real people, i.e. not garlic munchers, when a Dutch plated Maserati was also pulled in behind us. Pierre LeCocksuckeur tried to tell me in his not very good English (did they learn nothing from Agincourt?) that they were always there, but it was obvious that Sunday evening was for fare l'argent facile from les Rosbifs, or whatever it is they say in their soap-forsaken country.

Well, what can you expect? Give a land of sad, ttish communists uniforms and they're gonna turn into stty little sour-faced little Napoleons with a zenophobic attitude to the very people who saved them from speaking German these past fifty years.

France. A lovely country, somewhat spoiled by the people who live there. Was it Jean Paul Sartre who said "Hell is other people"? ' right it is if all the other people are French mate. Give them the finest motor race in the world and they still manage to avoid winning it very often.

That's probably what me off the most ( no, it was the money), I'd enjoyed the weekend, felt fairly pleased that Pergeot, or however you spell the -up, characterless st-wagen manufacturer, had won and even hummed along to the Marseillaise (even the poxy country's national anthem had to be written by Lennon and McCartney) and then this weaselly gendarme left me feeling like I wished that the Audi had won - and I really hate the ' Germans...