Four X Four X Fuck Off

Firstly, straight off the bat, I am by no means an eco-hippy. I don't believe that CO2 is going to murder my children, and I don't believe the world is going to catch on fire if we don't all stop using electricity and replace it with rainbow power.

I do, however, really really REALLY fucking hate 4x4s and I'll tell you why (like you give a shit).

I hate 4x4s because I live in one of the many suburbs of London (in my case, Wimbledon) where an increasing number of people who live nearby (I'm loathe to use the word "neighbour" as that implies I have to be "neighbourly") have decided that having hand-made wooden "plantation" blinds in their windows and organic Free Trade gravel in their front gardens is not enough. Oh no. Not nearly enough to satisfy their need to show the world that they are not just Middle Class, thank you very much, but Upper Middle Class. Yah, y'know, like, we used to have Ikea furniture and John Lewis saucepans but now it's all bespoke rosewood pedestal units and yak skin sofas, well we can afford it now Jerry's finally been promoted to Executive Vice President and Manager of Pointless Wank.

None of this is ENOUGH, do you hear? People might not notice, and then what would be the POINT? No, the only way to satisfy that yearning deep within their hollow, empty hearts is to buy a fucking great big car that shouts LOOK AT ME, I'M A SUCCESS. Cars such as this:

Audi Nob Jockey 4.2 XL

Porsche Piss Wizard STD

Range Rover 4.8 Turbo Fuck Basket "The Footballer's Friend"
Notice how the utter cuntedness of this model has caused all
the vegetation in the area to wither and die. 

Now look. I really, honestly have no issue with wanting to flash a bit of cash, I'm sure you've worked hard to earn it and it's yours to do with what you like. Let's ignore the fact that you can pick one of these ludicrous twat-wagons up second hand for £30k or so, thus somewhat diluting the suggestion that you've "made it" by being able to afford one. Similarly, let's brush over the undeniable fact that having an off-road 4X4 in London is about as idiotic as having a submarine at the top of Ben Nevis. And just to reiterate, I absolutely do not have the slightest interest in your car's fuel consumption, or the amount of CO2 it pumps out, or even whether 13 Guatemalan school children were killed in horrible and pointless fashion during its manufacture. Couldn't give a fuck.

But what I DO care about is not being able to park my own car (a dreary and soulless family hatchback, since you ask) outside my own house because YOU, you hopeless FUCKER, have plonked your ruddy great cockmobile right fucking there. Not only in MY FUCKING PARKING SPACE, but taking up THREE spaces because the fucking thing is so huge, it has the turning circle of a cross channel ferry and you can't see how much space you have in front or behind.

I believe that it should be illegal to own a 4X4 if you live in London and can't prove that you spend at least one weekend per month herding sheep. Up a mountain. In Mongolia. And if you park outside my house again, I'm having your wing mirrors.