Writing

Write what you know.

Well, I suppose so. If I must. Frankly I'd rather write about things I know nothing whatsoever about and make it all up. Instead I am going to tell you all about petrol. You only have yourselves to blame.

You see, I know petrol. I know, for instance, that the tiger you put in your tank should always be the Esso one, never Tony the Frosties tiger. Tony will just clog up your engine with his cereal crumbs. I know that putting lead in your petrol is not the same as putting lead in your pencil. I know that octane is the only word in the English language that doesn't rhyme with orange. These are things the canny motorist should always bear in mind.

Petrol mines are called oil wells and the stuff that comes out of them doesn't look at all the kind of thing you'd want to put in your car. You might just consider it for a squeaky hinge. Making chips in it is an absolute no-no. I'd go so far as to say it's a no-no-no-no-no, what the hell do you think you're doing? I'm not eating those! It might once have been good for making chips but it's been sitting under the ground for long enough to pass its use-by date tens of millions of times over. It's what they call fossil oil, which doesn't mean it's a pice of rock with a picture of an oil can stamped on it, just that it's very, very old.