Therapy session for me this.

Took Mrs Spider to an art installation at Dunstanburgh Castle last night, great place and interesting piece. Poetry and Art. Yep, I know what you’re thinking. Spider? Poetry? Culture? You never knew did you? (Some pics here if you’re interested)

Anyway. What put a little bit of a dampner on the evening was during the drive home. Well after midnight, no traffic, plodding along in my old wagon past Newcastle when someone decide to chuck a rock at us from a bridge.

Close shave


Missed my windscreen and Mrs Spider by about 2 feet. Or to put it another way (rough maths at 65mph) about 0.02 secs earlier and they would have killed or seriously injured someone.

I’ve no idea why. To be honest I really don’t fucking care. As far as I am concerned someone tried to kill Mrs Spider.

The Police were quick to the scene, no chance of catching anyone mind you once 2 sets of blue disco lights had turned up. But made all the right noises. Apparently they don’t have a history of this problem. Or maybe the fuckers have never managed to hit a car before.

So two things struck me (pardon the pun). One, I am really capable of wanting someone dead. It comes a quite a shock when you really do want it to happen. Not necessarily hurt. Just dead. Ended. No longer a threat to anyone. Anyone who considers this sport is defective and if it were a dog you would have it put down without a second thought. Instead an army of do-gooding shit-stains with guilt issues of their own lay in waiting to make excuses that he wasn’t breast fed enough, or maybe one of his numerous temporary bastard inducing fathers wouldn’t buy him shiny enough trainers. Don’t care. They need to be turned into fertiliser before they hurt someone who isn’t a similar waste of O2. Probably do the planet some good if anyone sharing more than a passing genetic link was as well.

The other thing is how fragile things are and we rarely consider it. I’m glad we had a great evening to balance the event or I really would be a spitting ball of anger still. An hour or so playing with the photos from last night helps you realise which part of the evening was important and you should make memories of. The other should be relegated to that passing thought that occurs to you when hopefully you read about the fuckers being thrown off a similar bridge to meet a sharp and hopefully not too painless end.

0.02 secs. Not much is it? If this provokes anything in you. Let it be a resolution to do something nice with a loved one, and if you see some little shit on a bridge with a rock, maybe mount the pavement briefly. Both make the world a better place.

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