Licence To Bullsh*t

So, we finally visited the Barad-dur that dominates the skyline of Auckland and had a lovely (if overpriced) meal at the Orbit restaurant which revolves every hour to give a panoramic view of both the beautiful city and the jumpers who hurl themselves maniacally from the top of the tower in one of Auckland’s many thrill rides. I don’t know why they do this, but maybe they saw the restaurant bill and decided dicing with death would be preferable to a lifetime of debt.

The meal itself wasn’t bad at all but we could have done without the running commentary from the smart arse behind us who took delight in telling his trapped dining companions about every aspect of the city as viewed from several hundred metres up and how it linked to his life and the life of his apparently famous friends. By the end of the meal I’d spotted several schoolboy errors he had made so we came to the conclusion (backed up by a quick check on Google) that he was full of shit in most, if not all, of his ramblings. I’m hoping this mook was a one off.

My obsession with licence plate spotting continues and this week I have seen the plates AREA51, SQU3AK, DVAD3R, LAPSEX (outside a strip club), SHARK2 (on a tour bus that has been modded into a giant shark- no really it has), ZOOMUM (possibly as her children looked like chimps), BEWAR3 (almost certainly of the munter driving) and two stunning examples of the new trend of having small print either above or below the registration. These were the “hilarious” My Kids Think IMNATM and the frankly astonishing ARR3ST Me If You Can.

That said, my suggestions for the wife to get one saying PSYCHO, M3NTAL or B1TCH have fallen on deaf, and vengeful ears.