Midweek Sport

These f***wits are PARKING mad!

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MODEL David Gandy – mildly famous for doing a David Beckham by posing in his pants – has spoken of his love of “fragrance”.

That’s aftershave to you and me.

He says: “I gravitate towards fresh, citrusy scents – and for the evening, I’ll go for something a bit darker.”

Get some Old Spice on, you foppish c***. IT takes a special kind of person to defend parking tickets.

The same sort of individual you’d expect to enthusiast­ically support 20mph zones and speed bumps and the pointlessn­ess of traffic lights in the middle of the night.

The kind of people who, with what they consider the full weight of a local council behind them, issue statements thundering “I make no apologies for….” and then ask their insipid PR teams to fill in the blanks.

Cruel and foul-mouthed observers might consider such ilk a bunch of utter f***wits.

As I’m neither – ahem – I’ll leave you to make up your own minds about the following.

When it was revealed Westminste­r Council earned £41.6 MILLION in parking fine profits in 2011/12 alone, up popped local councillor Daniel Astaire to defend it.

He said: “The system is already changing and councils are already looking to work with motorists to issue fewer fines and crucially increase the amount of people parking correctly.

“If we stay in this Jurassic age of pure rhetoric about cash cows and money making, innovation will be stifled and we cannot engage with motorists properly to find the best solutions that will benefit everyone.”

Somewhere in that verbal vomit appears to be the suggestion that it is time for motorists to stop complainin­g about being “cash cows”.

Pretty rich, that, considerin­g that after you’ve paid the “congestion charge” just to drive through central London, you then have to find a parking space that doesn’t cost the equivalent of a Harrod’s hamper for your car – itself taxed once a year to be on the road, full of petrol taxed to the hilt – only to get back three minutes late to find some c*** in a hi-viz jacket and an inability to speak English proudly taking a snap of his parking ticket on your windscreen via his shite old Nokia.

People often wonder how traffic wardens – or parking attendants, in council-speak – can sleep at night.

The answer is they can’t. They’re far too busy roaming the earth for the blood of virgins.

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