6th Blog Post...James 'I have the same first name as James Bond, and will try look like him in all my photos' Martin...or, 'captain twat'.

Follwing a link I that was brought to my attention...LINK I sent an e-mail to the people that represent him. No, not Little Chef, some other company...


Here;

Howdy partners,

Just a quick e-mail to forward onto that guy who makes food for people that you represent. James ...something.

I was sent a link to the review of some car that he wrote in some fantastic daily publication that he writes for, in-between dreaming of cakes, sausages, fish fingers and rutting birds. So, I'm going to aid him in his goal of killing off all cyclist and show my utter disgust at the fact that they seem to think they can cycle where they like? The cheeky so and so's. How dare they get in our way, don't they know that presumably safe, quiet country roads are used for Little Chef chef's finest 'English breakfast buns' maker for his private really fast car testing route?! Idiots.

Anyway, I'll add to some of the points that Jeremy Clarkson...sorry, James May...sorry, James...something wrote.

Names James...James...er...Martin? And I hate buttocks...

God, I hate those cyclists. Every last herbal tea-drinking, Harriet Harman-voting one of them. That's one of the reasons I live in the countryside, where birds tweet, horses roam, pigs grunt and Lycra-clad buttocks are miles away. But recently, there's been a disturbing development.

Now, I won't lie to you James...something, but I'm a cyclist and a triathlete - we wear even less lycra and occasionally, rubber. But, I can confirm I have never voted for the Lord Privy Seal, nor has anyone else I know. I also have never put lip to cup on something that contains herbal tea. But then, I do have fantastic buttocks. Imagine one of your finest Little Chef peaches if you will.

I couldn't find a photo of two eggs in a hankey...meh

When you say you live in the countryside, where birds tweet, horses roam and pigs grunt, it seems as though you don't take this into consideration when you 'stepped on the gas' to overtake these spider-man cyclist...(I'm not sure I get this? Are you taking some kind of hallucinogenic drug?) So, you seem to be doing a fantastic job of announcing yourself as a bit of an idiot. But then again, you make food for a living. Like Ronald McDonald and the guy from KFC. And the guy who owns the local Kebabery, Abra-Kebabra. So, I suppose we could be asking too much for 'a pinch' of common sense and 'a teaspoon' of intelligence. Hey-ho.

Each Saturday, a big black truck appears at the bottom of my road, with bikes stuck to the roof and rear. Out of it step a bunch of City-boy ponces in fluorescent Spider-Man outfits, shades, bum bags and stupid cleated shoes, who then pedal around our narrow lanes four abreast with their private parts alarmingly apparent. Do they enjoy it? They never smile. I'm sure they just come here to wind me up.

A big black truck? Is it the A-team? And I bet you wouldn't go no-where near Face, Hannibal, Howling Mad Murdock or BA Baracus on a bike, which in turn makes sense since he 'WONT GET ON NO PLANE.....FOOL!

How dare they pull up on the bottom of your road. Ponces indeed.

I enjoy it, but then I have fantastic buttocks, so cars slow down to admire it, then slowly whilst indicating with friendly wave and a flash from a camera amble past without a 'dash' of fuss.Ha ah ha, yes, yes. I assume the A-Team travel in their big black truck, just to wind you up. They haven't got anything better to do, i.e. save the world from terrorists who can't shoot straight and shout a lot in really warm weather. Duh.

Anyway, the other day Live sent me the new eco-friendly electric car. Not a G-Wiz (if they did that I'd be off (oh...we all but wish) ), but a Tesla Roadster, trumpeted as the world's first battery-powered sports car. It costs £90,000, does 130mph, but emits 89g/km less carbon than a Toyota Prius - ie, none at all.

G-Wiz? Could explain the reason you've been seeing Spiderman on a bike on your road?! Trumpeted, vintage reporting James...something?.

So naturally, the first customers were tree-huggers Leonardo DiCaprio and George Clooney. It's very Californian, this car. Company boss Elon Musk is a Silicon Valley multimillionaire, so that's where they build them - but it's actually based on Norfolk's own Lotus Elise.

Yes, naturally. If it's based on Norfolk's own Lotus Elise, then I'm guessing you must have driven the entire duration whilst holding your breath? Or did you rustle up some eco friendly lube in your kitchen then winch yourself in...? Anyway, I'm impressed. Chapeau.

But I don't care about any of that, and here's why. Twenty minutes into my test drive I pulled round a leafy bend, enjoying the birdsong - and spotted those damned Spider-Man cyclists. Knowing they wouldn't hear me coming, I stepped on the gas, waited until the split second before I overtook them, then gave them an almighty blast on the horn at the exact same time I passed them at speed. The look of sheer terror as they tottered into the hedge was the best thing I've ever seen in my rear-view mirror. I think this could be the car for me.

Recession hit hard...even Spidey hit the crime wave...couldn't even afford a gun. Tut tut

Enjoying the birdsong? Right, that's it. What were you taking? Was it some sort of homemade brew with extracts of garlic, tree bark, dog hair and dwarf saliva?!
Well, since you were more than likely holding your breath whilst driving, I'm sure you snuck up like a stealthy sea-lion with a steering wheel...

Now, in all seriousness, what you did makes you sound like an absolute clown. You idiot. So what would have happened if the cyclists hit the hedge? Cause serious damage to themselves...would you feel guilty or would you carry on in "the car for you" regardless and repeat the previous act of idiocy to the next group of cyclists? Did you consider that they may have had families and loved ones? Obviously not, you "birdsong" listening fool.

I have no respect for you and would have no qualms about telling you to your face that you are a 'twat'.

Regards,

What's your beef with me? Peter Parker.