Well my day started off so well. The postie arrived with one of the books I'd ordered and my DVD (Super quick service!). However my joy was short-lived. 15 minutes into my commute to work and the icing on my proverbial cake was about to spoil. I was merrily tanking down the duel carriageway, like I do most mornings. As I emerged from under the bridge I spotted two yellow coats standing on the pavement.

I slowed down, fearing the worst, but it was already too late. By the time the rabbit saw the fox, the fox had already clocked the rabbit.

Yup, I got nicked and I can't even bitch about it. I was caught fair and square. I may well have been doing 61mph on the dual carriage way, (60mph being the usual speed for a dual-carriageway) but, it was pointed out to me that there is a big whacking sign just before the bridge informing me of the 40mph speed restriction. Doesn't make me feel any better about it mind.

I can't even bitch about the officers. They were perfectly civil and weren't at all smarmy about it. Though I did look at the bloke booking me a little strangely when he chirped, "Don't worry about it, it's only a fixed penalty." Only a fixed penalty, like that's going to make me feel better? Is it going to make me whistle a happy tune for the remainder of the journey? No. So don't say something so stupid! It may only be a fixed penalty to you, it might even make your day, but it's ruined mine.

And here's another oddity. Why do we feel compelled to say 'thank you' in these situations, like they're doing us a favour?
He hands me a ticket and I say "Thank you". Am I insane?
Human nature is the strangest thing sometimes (yes, I'm rambling now).

It just remains for the local constabulary to lighten my wallet to the tune of £60 and autograph my licence.