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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Pity the poor Pop!

There he was yesterday, driving innocently down the motorway, talking to me on his bluetooth headset, not a care in the world, when I heard a sudden, loud noise and he explained to me that he needed to finish the call and pull over onto the hard shoulder while he tried to work out what had hit him.

It transpires that what had happened was that a driver on the opposite carriageway had veered off the asphalt and just missed crashing into the barrier on the central reservation. The move, though, flung up a shower of gravel, half bricks, discarded shoes, etc, etc into the path of Pop's brand new car.

The car is quite poorly. Its windscreen has been smashed to smithereens; its bonnet is pockmarked from the shrapnel; and its left radiator is cracked. But it did its job. It sacrificed its own bodily integrity to protect that of its driver. Pop is unhurt.

For which I am profoundly grateful.

But he was very shaken.

So a bit of pity - if you can spare it - for the poor Pop would probably be very welcome.

The Editor


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm glad your Pop came out of it unhurt; it must have been frightening (and upsetting also to have the car damaged).

Yours is the second blog-father I've had occasion to think about in the past 5 minutes. :-) I hope there isn't some sort of anti-dad skullduggery abroad in the world tonight...

10:45 pm  
Blogger Mary said...

I pity the poor Pop, and his pockmarked and pulverised goddammit I can't find a synonym for "car" beginning with P.

10:16 am  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Ah. Not Pop as in Pater. Pop as in Larkin. Nom de web of my very good friend.

Apparently I have to be extra-specially tolerant of his tormenting until his car is mended. Which could be something of a challenge.

Porsche? Ha! He wishes!

6:25 pm  
Blogger DD said...

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
It's not safe driving on the motorway.

I pity the poor Pop and his poorly pockmarked passenger conveyance.

7:45 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Poor Pop will be pleased to perceive that people pity him.

7:51 pm  
Blogger marmiteboy said...

Indeed. We can't have Pop being put in harms way. We need him to fight the good fight with us.

Very glad the Popmeister is unhurt. The car can be mended, it ain't so easy to mend a Pop.

8:06 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Indeed. Despite their often steely exterior, Pops are actually made from quite squishy stuff which would be unlikely to be able to repel a half brick.

8:11 pm  
Blogger Lily said...

Would it be incredibly curmudgeonly of me to query whether, had Pop not been distracted by chatting to your good self via the ether, his attention might have been more focused on the road and the meanderings of the other car spotted in time to take evasive action? Just a thought.

10:50 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

I think you over-estimate my capacity to distract, to be honest...

No, were it not for the bluetooth, I would agree with you. With that, though, he's no more distracted than if he were talking to his passenger.

Not that he had a passenger.

But you know what I mean.

5:11 pm  

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