If I’m found dead…

… then get the cops to look for the big Italian-looking bloke in the dark red old-model Commodore that I got into an argument with down the street this afternoon.

Well I mean, what kind of moron stops right in the middle of a pedestrian crossing, behind banked up traffic going nowhere because of a train going by, then when asked nicely to move off the crossing so me and my kids and some woman with a double-sized pram can cross, starts a tirade of abuse, shouting insults about myself and (would you believe) my mother.

I bet he’s never even met my mother.

I pointed to the crossing again, called him a moron and kept walking. He actually looked like he was about to get out of the car, as his kid and wife looked on. What was he going to do, duff me up on the street in front of dozens of people? What a tosser.

Actually, I think I’m pretty safe. He wouldn’t be in the mafia. There’s no way a mafia dude would drive such a crap car as that.

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