eagerbeaver:
This is what happens when you associate with people who like being an overnight security guard on £2 per hour folks 
The mighty Beaver will now be seen steaming past your crappy 460 bhp fleet spec garbage can in his DAF XF SSC 530 
Reflect upon your driving career failure in your driver facing camera whilst wearing your hi vis and being terrified to reach for your spam sandwich which your other half reluctantly created for you the previous evening. Reach for your cold can of Red Bull on a warm spring day from your fridge to then sadly realise you don’t have one 
Think about your sweat stained & ■■■ burned CLOTH seat base whilst the UK’s finest artic steerer cruises along with his pert and handsome rear being cosseted in hand stitched leather…(heated and/or cooled obvs).
Spare a few seconds to digest the dread of using lane 1 or 2 while ascending Windy Hill as the great & gifted Beaver storms up lane 3 and then decides to go full tang in Lane 4. Just imagine the huge wedge of sweet cashola thrust into my manly hands after very little work whilst marshalling your 33 pallets of biscuits in a line at Aldi to be then told they are in the incorrect order for £12 an hour 
Despair upon the ridiculous situation you are in at 5.30 am as a crow lands on the top of your recycled sardine tin bouncing around like a yoof on laughing gas, just around the same time as the daymen climb out of bed with your other halves.
If you cannot reach the dizzy heights of the incredible Beaver do not despair. Well, by all means be miserable as your inferior fleet spec motor, handballing, poor pay & crap shift pattern should obviously get you down but…have hope. Play your cards right like Bruce and you too could be one of lorry driving rock stars. Peace.
Whilst the Keen Rodent tries to keep his Red Bulled eyes on the road, having forgotten what day it is, or indeed day or night, the Nodding Donkey switches on his tablet from the comfort of his bunk and puts the kettle on,whilst the dairy operative connects the pipes to his tanker. Sipping a fresh cup of Earl Grey, The Donkey tries to remember what physical interaction with the load, or even the trailer curtains, was like, but the the process is but a faint memory.
A faint smile forms on the Donkeys face, as he watches a reefer arrive, and back onto a free bay. The driver, wearing the customary dealer boats, fake RayBans and Ben Sherman shirt, jumping out of his V6 bestickered high rise, and trot at pace to open the trailer doors. Having backed onto the bay, the driver climbs back behind the wheel, and asummes the classic “head on the wheel” sleeping position. Another reefer driver stands by the office door, gesticulating wildly at a company operative, threatening to “lay the ■■■■■■ out”. No doubt an unforseen problem has delayed his loading, and he’s now late to “make the boat”.
The Donkey, having finished his cuppa, considers wether to heat up a home cooked Carbonara Pasta now, or to wait until he parks up in his favourite quiet hidey hole, and have a steak and chips later.
'tis a laugh, this tanker driving.