At this time of year it is traditional for me to nominate serial whinge fountain, big-nosed Friend to the Panel-Beating Industry, racing motor-ist and twat Mr Jason Plato of Monaco, Oxon. No Sunday afternoon of
BRITISH Touring Car Championship racing upon the anbaric wireless-with-pictures has been complete this year without the BRDC's tame proboscis monkey blathering on about how unfair it is that the laws of physics permit the rear-wheel drive BMWs to accelerate from a standing start more effectively than his poxy front-wheel drive MG.
On Sunday this shockingly biased state of affairs forced Mr Plato to attempt to overtake the Beemer of a Mr Colin Turkington by taking to the wet grass on the approach to Paddock Hill Bend, which manoeuvre saw the motor-car of Mr Turkington end the race shortly thereafter, backwards and in the crash barrier.
After the drivers' title had been decided in Mr Turkington's favour. I therefore suggest that Mr Plato gets some first-hand experience of the acceleration of a souped-up 1-Series by being firmly strapped into one which is then pushed out of the back door of a Lockheed C-130 Hercules, somewhere over territory occupied by IS(IS).
Jason Plato learns of his demotion to the back of the Brands Hatch grid,
yesterday Sunday