V

Day four of giving up smoking and I'm not a nice person to be around. Or indeed to be. I'm very very tetchy. Angry almost. The headaches don't help. Driving is especially trying - Bruce Banner goes out of the window, and what is left is not a courteous and considerate road user. I have come up with a strategy however, to try to reduce the risk of a little incident; I have a mental narrative playing, where I try to categorise all other road users by the make of their car. For example, all Vauxhall drivers are cunts. Every one.

Corsa/Nova: Either untermensch chavscum "cruising" round town with their pox riddled fuck puppets advertising to the world their lack of taste in cars, music and women, or semi senile piss soaked grannies who are about as useful behind the wheel of a car as a random bucket of organs from the local butchers.

Astras: Falls into two categories, old Astras and new Astras. Old Astras are the equivalent of a mule in the wild west - cheap, basic transport, invariably laden down with tools, wood and bits and pieces from the local DIY shop. Driven by slouching old men with a roll up behind one ear and trousers held up with hairy string (probably). Highway code? They wrote it. In fucking crayon. Utterly unconcerned by the presence of other road users, probably because they are wondering where the nearest lay-by is so that they can clot their sporran over page three whilst eating a pie.

New Astras are invariably driven by bitter, under achieving, office supplies salesmen (and women). Cheap suits, cheap aftershave, and the flashiest mobile phone they can afford. Bitter at their lot in life, and wishing that they could be eligible for a better car, they always seem to drive as if they have something to prove. News flash: You've already proved it. And we're laughing. We KNOW that you'll never make middle management and the elusive executive upgrade, but do you? One day soon, after a morning spent carving up other motorists and and afternoon failing to sell any A4 copier paper you are going to sit down, assess your life, and make the world a happier place by leaving.

Zafira/Meriva

Where to start? The Paedophiles choice. Mum goes to Iceland, and dad drives a Zafira. For some strange reason, I see a lot of the GSi (is that right?) or "sporty" models about. A little badge on the back of your four wheeled transformer does not a cool dad make, and secretly they know it. People who drive these cars masturbate in the shower whilst thinking of the wife's sister, or the work experience girl. If you own a Zafira or a Meriva your life is over - oh you may still be breathing, but have you ever asked yourself what for? Your kids lie awake at night wondering how much they will inherit when you die. Alright, not as badly driven as some models, mainly because the drivers are acutely aware of their own mortality.

Tigra/Antara/Agila

Tigra - one of the ugliest cars in the world, can only be bought by blind people, who shouldn't be allowed to drive. (actually, I suppose that rich people could buy Tigras and give then to people that they really don't like, but I suspect that this is not a sustainable market given the current economic climate).

Antara "From £21,000". If you cannot think of a better way to spend £21,000 then you are dragging average IQ of the human race down, and you should be shot for the good of us all.

Agila. A Suzuki. Built in Poland. By Vauxhall. On which planet does this sound good? Judging by the drivers, planet Ditzy. Always female (or pre-op transsexual). Often with a passenger who that are incapable of talking to without turning their head and looking them in the eyes "why should I look at the road? It's not as if it's going anywhere..". Not involved in as many accidents as they cause, which is a pity.

Vectra

Ah, the Vectra. Ever wondered what happens to the bitter, under achieving office supplies salesman if he gets promoted? A bitter, under achieving sales manager. Or a policeman. Whatever, the effect is much the same, a cocksure, know-it-all napoleon complex wrapped up in a cocoon of insecurities, spite and bile. Often causes accidents by replying to email offering penis enlargement on their blackberry. Interestingly, many Vectra drivers seem to be aware of this on some level, and often drive the cars as if they really hate them. You know that David Brent would drive a Vectra.