|The sweet scented air of your GP's freedom to drive a fucking tank|
“So the government keeps stalling and stalling over our failure to comply with EU air quality standards, which is just about the worst in Europe mainly because I drive a fucking tank a quarter of a mile just to make a house call on the granny farm down the road. So what? I pay my taxes,” said an angry doctor, still frowning at the idea of ignoramuses like you driving around in your prole tins, blatantly minding your own business whilst openly doing something you enjoy.
“Unless I can claim it back as a legitimate business expense, naturally,” he mused. “Yes, of course I need a Porsche Cayenne for my job. One day I might be called to a medical emergency on the top of Mount fucking Snowdon. Now piss off, scum, and stop doing things you enjoy. Whatever it is, it’s bad for you. Idiot.”
“I hate you,” he added.