bugger, arse and feck.

[C.A.R.]

So, let me paint the picture.

Me and the mrs are looking for a new place to live and had arranged to view a property on the outskirts of our town for 3:15 on Saturday. Fine.

Leaves the house at about 3pm. Arrive at destination. Or so I think. This place is an urban minefield. It's a mess of dead-ends, tight sideroads and miss-leading house numbers.

Mrs is now screaming in my ear because it's now 3:25 and we're still driving around in circles. Obviously, the layout of housing and the numbering system is, by default, all my responsibility and I should know where the f*ck I'm going.

I go down yet another dead end. This time, instead of reversing eleventy-hundred yards I decided to turn in someones' driveway.

Crunch.

"What was that?"



Bollocks.

On reflection, it was impatience which f*cked it.

Positives?

We've found a place to live, thank god.

And I've already got a replacement bumper being delivered. Can anyone guess what it cost?