I know we all like to think of ourselves as rational, humourous, and happy-go-lucky human beings. The sort of good chaps that would happily take a shopping trolley to the back of the heel & turn round with a showbiz grin & say "I'm sorry" to the clueless, benefit scrounging twat in his Sports Direct tracky bottoms and pizza stained England football shirt that rammed you through sheer lack of muscular co-ordination and spacial awareness. However!!!!! When some fucker pulls in a bit sharpish, invading your personal space, or some mouth-breathing Citroen driver tailgates you through a 40 zone, you really do want to break loose an armoury of fists, wheel braces & broken Starbucks cold coffee bottles in their arrogant size 42 waisted faces. Or is that just me? Tell me please, your storied of the Good, The Bad, and best of all when it Turned Ugly!! I have some corkers, but I''ll chip in late, like an England striker.