And, the 'fuckmuppet of the day' award goes to:

The man who felt the need to sprint down the road to stop a van from reversing around a corner.

Why did he do this? Well, it would appear that he made a value judgement about me, and assumed that because I can't walk proper, I can't know the Green Cross Code, and therefore presumed that I was going to wheel off the pavement and into the path of the reversing van. I'd love to take him out for a ride in my car and watch him break into a panic at every road junction "but, you can't walk! How do you know what that red light means?" Because my brains are in my knees, clearly.

I suspect though, he'd fall into the camp of people who believe that crips can't drive. They're an interesting breed. I used to know someone through the Brittle Bone Society who worked in the field of motoring. Sadly, he passed away a few years ago, but I remember him telling me and my parents the story of a man who'd reached the age where he now had to get a medical certificate from his doctor to certify that he was still fit to drive (is it 70? I'm living on the assumption that the DVLA will send me a "you're old now" reminder notice). Suddenly, his driving licence was revoked. Apparently this was because his doctor had informed the DVLA that he wasn't fit to drive. The reason for his unfitness being "he's got no legs, he can't reach the pedals," despite having been driving as a lower limb amputee for decades.

In my stand up set I usually mention driving a couple of times. Mainly because I'm too lazy to actually sit and write material, and usually wind up thinking about what I'm going to say in the car on my way to a gig. After a gig a few months ago, a comic I gave a lift to the gig and back said "I really liked that, but, you might wanna mention something about being able to drive. Tonight the audience saw you have to get out of your chair to bump it up on the stage and sit back down, so they knew you could use your legs a bit. But, comedy is funniest when it's believeable, and if you're playing somewhere that the audience don't see that you can stand, they won't believe you can drive, so that bit won't be as funny for them."

Because... driving is done in a standing position?!?!?

Going back to today's Mister Sprinty Man - maybe from behind I just look suicidal? Interesting concept to garner from someone's hairdo. Like I wasn't paranoid enough about my fuzzy locks.

Anyway, I like the word 'fuckmuppet'. I first encountered it recently when a friend used it to describe the occupational therapist who wouldn't let me have a non-slip floor in my bathroom. I should update you that he has, under the duress of all the other managers in his department, reconsidered. I'm now waiting for a rep to come from the flooring company with shiny samples to let me pick my colour. And it's going to be glittery too! Seeing as my day started by watching the BBC's Breakfast News while I chowed down on my breakfast, and they were talking about new and popular insults, today seems like an excellent day for 'fuckmuppet' awards.

Today's 'instiutional fuckmuppets of the day award' goes to:

Halifax, Camden Town branch.

Why? For their comedic flouting of the DDA.

Today was the first time I'd tried to go in that branch since I only had a savings account with a small amount of money in with them, that I never put money in nor took money out of. But, today, I wanted that money, so I ventured inside.

Just inside the door, they have two steps. So, I got out of my wheelchair and bumped it up them, with an audience comprising of the employee standing in the doorway trying to sell mortgages. She never offered me any assistance, but, fortunately, she didn't grab my wheelchair out from underneath me either.

Once inside I couldn't help but giggle at all the "writing point only"'s at a suitable height for a wheelchair user, complete with the universal symbol for 'cripple' printed on them. I especially loved the "portable writing point" with the wheelchair logo on. It was basically just a tea tray fastened to the wall, and presumably there so they could whisk it outside for their customers that they force to bank in the street. What a safe location Camden High Street is to make people have to bank outside. The drug dealers and dodgy DVD sellers must love it.

It reminded me of the irony of the Chinese/Thai restaurant in Golders Green with the step at the door, the step down to the toilets... but then a spacious and handrailed toilet at the bottom of the step with a cripple sticker on the door. That's truly a disabled toilet if ever I saw one.

Today's final award is for "random thing of randomness," and that goes to Quorn fake chicken slices.

Why?

For making my wee smell like Quorn fake chicken.