panic in detroit

England is in the grip of petrol fever.

Apparently someone somewhere threatened to go on strike about something and that meant there was a chance that just maybe-possibly-potentially there might be a slight petrol shortage sometime in the not too distant future IF it happened. Although the people who had said they MIGHT go on strike had not given any idea of a date when that MIGHT be, and there were still some "talks" happening that would most likely resolve whatever the issue was.
Or to put it another way a Union decided to try and hold the government to ransom. I'm not entirely sure what it is they're after, it may well be quite justified, but ever since the days of the wicked witch Maggie Thatcher the Unions are no longer as powerful as they used to be.

But then someone must of told Dave (and we all know he's not the brightest star in the sky, especially as he has still not answered my letters so clearly still not seeing sense), and Dave decided to tell the British public via our everso reliable, totally honest and not-at-all-likely-to-whip-the-public-into-a-frenzied-panic-media that it might be a sensible idea if everyone kept their tanks topped up, or kept a spare can of petrol JUST IN CASE. 

And anyway we were told the army were on stand-by, and they would get the petrol to where it needed to be but the main thing was for everyone to NOT PANIC BUY.

Hmmm. . . 

Do I need to caption this ? Nah, already done for me.

Smart move.

Because for one thing England has had a week of freakishly hot weather for this time of year - so that sends us all a bit loopy anyway. A friend of mine was riding her bike along our seafront on Wednesday and she saw people swimming in the sea, and our sea here is fucking freezing even in the middle of summer. So yeah, people go a bit mental when they see the sun.

And also because if there's one thing we're good at it's panic buying.
Anyfuckingthing.
And we don't seem to need much of a reason, an impending bank holiday will do it never mind an actual shortage. Nowadays all of the big supermarkets are open every day of the year, but go into one the day before a bank holiday and you will see people buying up enough food to see them through your average nuclear holocaust.

I don't think we ever got over the rationing during the war.
Or the power cuts and strikes that happened when I was a kid.
Certainly my parents generation never did and I guess some of them have passed that on to their children too, my Mum only had to hear the word strike and she'd be off to Tesco to buy 10 loaves of bread, 20 pints of milk and as much meat as she could fit in her freezer.
Even though there was only two people in her house, she rarely ate sandwiches, her husband drank black coffee and the strike was in a carpet factory at the other end of the country.

But anyway, thanks to Dave and his bunch of tossers government giving out the warning we now have queues at petrol stations from 6am every day and some are actually closed because they have run out completely.
In trying to beat the potential shortage that maybe-possibly-potentially could have happened the drivers of this country have actually made the thing they were trying to get prepared for happen.
Idiots.

A typical British day out in the sunshine.

And then this evening they announced that the proposed strike has been averted . . . for now. But there is something that only two people knew about until I wrote this and now you, dear sheep, are being let in on the secret.
All this is actually my fault.
And not because I have failed in my attempt at world domination valiant mission to get Dave to listen to me.

Oh no.
This is yet another example of the notorious Cowgirl jinx.

As you may remember I am not allowed for public safety reasons don't drive. Consequently I have no need to buy petrol. Ever.
But, I have a rather nasty persistent overgrown weed (not that kind of weed, yeah I fucking wish) growing in my garden. Every year I hack it down and spray it and every year the fucking awful thing comes back. I told a mate about it, as I was thinking I would have to pay some specialised service to come and get rid of it for me. He said that if I drill into the roots and pour some diesel in it's bound to kill it once and for all. I know it's not really allowed, bad for the environment blah blah blah, but it's not like I'm building a nuclear reactor in the shed (I'm not fucking french) and a can of diesel is about a fiver, compared to what it would cost to get someone in ? Yeah, I'm gonna try Steve's suggestion first.
My mate at work found a petrol can for me on Friday and said that she would get some for me during the week when she filled up her car so that I could do the garden this weekend while the weather is still nice.

She gave up every time she went because of the size of the queues.

And now not only are there the mile long queues at the garages that have still got fuel, they have now said that they are not letting anyone fill up spare petrol cans.

See ?
All my fault.
I really should run for Prime Minister, it seems I can fuck up the country just as much as Dave.

And all I need to do it is an empty one of these.