The End

Onward and upward went my journey to the home of Dj Gaillimh. Driving along in my automobile,my iPod beside me at the wheel. Until half a mile the far side of Horseleap this funky little Citroen in front of me starts rear-flashing me (rear-flashing is a new phenomenon that began in the late 90's and which i would like to take full credit for naming. Normal flashing involves an intermitent dazzling of oncoming drivers using longbeam or main headlamps, but rear-flashing involves intermitent flashing of a car behind you using rear fog lamps or hazard lights. It is usually related to danger of some sort and rumour has it that it really began during the heavy use of intravenious drugs in the rave scene of the 90's). So, now that i have been justly warned that something is wrong with my car i decide to normal-flash the man back. His rear-flashing continues until, unpredictably, he pulls into the hard shoulder,waits for me to pass him and then drives right up my ass with his full,dazzling longbeams on! "Wait just a minute there, Johnny rear-flasher, what's your game?" I whisper under my breath,thankful he is a full Citroen-length away from me. Upon this blinding I pull in to the shoulder and he takes off,whizzing by me. Confuzzled, I pull out again and driving continues as normal until I manage to catch up with him again. More rear-flashing, more normal-flashing, more name-calling until eventually Simon Citroen decides he's had enough and pulls in. I pull in. I jump out. He jumps out. ASBO fever rises. Amidst a barage of being called "an inconsiderate driver" and "having no manners", this bog warrior makes a valid point of stating that my lights were pointing into the sky and I was "dazzling the be-jaysus" out of him. Eventually the conversation reaches it's fever pitch and when i jump back in my car the problem becomes aware to me. I lower the angle of my headlamps and all is right with the world. He (the Citroen C4 canary) got lucky, cos little did he know I had been listening to Limp Bizkit right before I pulled in. It was very nearly (and quite literally) "My way or the highway"!!

The Middle

Ah,but alas, my friends, the story does not just finish here. With the offending tyre rightly f**ked it was time to whip out the jack and get that bad boy off. No problem there,I even enjoyed a riveting conversation with the neighbour while doing it! The following week the dreaded journey between the Pale and the land of Supermacs is baring down upon me again. "not a problem" i said to myself, "now that i know where the blasted pothole is i shall simply avoid the little goblin". Easier said than done my fellow blog-heads. Half way through the journey, between Tyrrellstown and Kilbeggan(which i must say is a great little village,often i have stopped their to get some nice cheap car-juice and then hit the road again. A mate tells me this particular garage have dodgy dealings in getting their petrol but that's away from the point for now!) i am cruising along at the speed limit of a respectable 100km/h when...WHAM... this sneaky little pothole jumps up from the road and slams into my poor little wheel. Or should i say wheels! Yes,my darlings, both front and back wheels on the passenger side of my car are now more buckled than a 16 year old nakker-drinker after his 3rd can. Panic hits me as the car begins to careene towards the hard shoulder. I bank to the right, the offending wheels pull left. After the onslaught we eventually come to a grinding halt and the damage inspection begins. Both of the rims are cracked and buckled and air hisses out like a snake in the grass. (thank you St. Patrick for at least getting rid of those feckers,that would be the last thing you'd want to bite you while changing two tyres). Out came the old moby-dick (mobile phone,which i get much abuse over. Hey, just cos it has to be wound up in the morning....) and a quick call to my special lady at home (Mam) and help is on the way. Two spare tyres are delivered to my helpless ass within an hour and a half and I'm back on the road. Tune in next time for the remainder of the journey..."The case of the ASBO and my headlamps!"

The Beginning

Well,it all began on a dark Sunday evening after a gruelling journey between the Pale (or Dublin as we call it today) and the majestic county of Galway. Having pretty much completed the journey i turned into the beautiful estate that is Gleann Dara only to meet the mother of all potholes! Poof! and the tyre was no more! The offending tyre is pictured above. Never again,Nankang,never again!