Satellite Aggravation

To pick up where I probably left off on the old blog, I just wanted to shout and rant about things that make me shout at the radio while I am driving. Marian Keyes advertising Kodak or some other film which I am now never going to buy. Some fucker called Rory from Elephant Self Storage who apparently knows that everyone is short of storage space these days (Who is that fucked for storage? Maybe it is to house all the regrets people have for overstretching themselves in the good times). But the one add that has made me stop the car and text into the radio show concerned (you know who you are Tom Dunne) is the add for Garmin Sat Navigator, where this one with a fake American accent sings about all the benefits of the new Garmin sat nav.

Now I am agin sat navs at the best of times. Who needs to know the way home from somewhere. You drove to where you are how could you not know. What happened to reading maps before you set-off to know which general direction you want to go in but I understand some people can be geographically challenged in this regard (you know who you are Stephen). This new model though apparently has lane assist to tell you which lane you should be in! Fuck off. If it is not a single carriageway, then a road has plenty of warning signs for your exit, even in Ireland. Driving on the continent is even less trouble as sign posting on motorways is very good. No, now we are going to have all the cretins, who find a simple roundabout challenging unless every lane has arrows telling you where you should be going (obviously the rules of the road passed these fuckers by), swerving from lane to lane as their lane assists starts barking orders at them from the dashboard.

And there is more. This new thingy has monuments of interest in 3D apparently. So what? a full scale hologram of Cashel Rock is going to appear in your passenger seat when you get in range and scare the living shit out of you? Or else it will make people start looking about for the monument, taking their already limited focus from the road.

All of these extras though are just the icing on my cake of bile, which rises every time I hear that bint singing about Garmin.com, Garmin.com, Garmin.com. The only sat nav I will ever need is the one that is going to direct me to her house so I can get her.

I am also annoyed that Tom Dunne persists in playing the ad during his programme despite my pleas to desist. Something Happens? Nothing happens more like Mr Dunne.