The random, but sometimes surprisingly connected (but not necessarily lucid), stream-of-consciousness thoughts of an optimistic, heavy drinking, cantankerous, iconoclastic, foul-mouthed, devil worshipping misogynist who gets into fist-fights and lived in a damp barge in the arse end of the Thames and now lives in a caravan and loves to slaughter cats by the flinty light of a full moon while reading poetry.
I was always under the impression that it was that fine character actor, James Robertson Justice
ReplyDeleteAh, but I am the Stig's American cousin.
ReplyDeleteBut not the fat one in the big rig.