No Country For Old Men On Motorbikes

It's Britain. It's sunny. It's warm (kinda).

What does that mean?

It means the roads are shit-thick with retired solicitors wobbling around on ill-advised Harleys after they've spent all morning stuffing their diamond-patterned Pringles into some twice-worn leather chaps whilst jamming their whisky-guts behind the zip of their unfortunate Arnie jacket.

Elsewhere, garages have run out of charcoal briquettes and Sainsbury's only have one packet of sausages left, and they're 'quince and rhubarb'.

If you don't mind queueing though, Morrisons have loads of sausages left because, let's face it, their customers don't barbecue whilst there are still chippies open. Morrisons' bangers are skinny and cheap and right next to the slug pellets.

Right I'm off to Simonize my Morgan, before the Masters comes on.