My regular readers will know that in general, I'm extremely patient both with the immature fuckwits here who seek peer approval by posting oh- so-clever (so they think) attempts to appear surreal, and with the morons who populate the roads of my belovèd (*waves* at TOG) France. This afternoon, I yet again asked myself, whether people really deserve 'saving'. We were going to the restaurant that I just mentioned. I had F., my mate's girlfriend on the K100, and he was alone on his Fazer, as we had left F.'s flat and lover boy had to go to his lock-up to get his bike, so the lady in question elected to stay on the BMW. We're going up past the Père Lachaise cemetary, and as we're going past a junction, there's a car indicating left to turn, and so the cunt in the Renault 25 or whatever who was behind and who wanted to go straight on, pulled out without looking. I had sort of <fx: wiggles nose> sensed that he was going to do it (his wheels turning right were a dead giveaway), and so I dodged around him. F. hadn't seen it coming, and so the sudden movement made her grab a hold of me, which wasn't an unpleasant experience in itself, but she was obviously scared. I rarely use the horns on the K100 as they're, well, fucking loud and I don't like aggression of any sort, so I just revved the engine, stopped in front of matey and pointed to my eyes with index and middle finger in the internationally recognised gesture of 'use your eyes, twat !' We continued on our way, and Mr Renault pulled up next to me at the lights, wound down his window and started to rant, using the 'tu' form towards me which was downright disrespectful, considering that I continued to address him as 'monsieur', and to use 'vous'. I reminded him that had we fallen, he'd have been in the wrong, what he did was illegal, etc. The whole time, he didn't stop ranting and screaming, saying he'd fuck my mother, etc. I sort of stopped, looked at him, and realised that in fact much like porl or Ace, his tantrum wasn't for my benefit, but for his. He didn't even hear what I was saying. Now when I think back to every time that I've had occasion to remind a motorist that his actions have caused me to take evasive action, it occurs to me that the 'anger' or aggression directed at me is almost always in direct proportion to the 'degree' to which the person is in the wrong. That is, someone will do something a bit silly, he or she will say, 'pardon!', and we'll say no more about it. Someone does something downright fuckwitted and borderline lethal, and they'll go for your throat if you dare to point it out to them. I'm actually tempted to not even bother trying to discuss it, if someone isn't willing to listen. From now on, I'll spend maybe ten seconds trying to reason, and if the fuckwit in question has blown a gasket and is busy ranting and raving, then I'lll just hit him and walk away. Put him down on the ground, make sure he's in the 'recovery position', and leave him. There's no point in trying to talk sense into someone's who's as thick as shit, so why bother?