November 19, 2002
A blathering simpleton
by lorie <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Right then. Monday mornings, I have to use public transport to get into work, and the system in London has seen better days. Rickety old trains trundling along decaying rails, anyway that's a whole 'nother rant. Picture the scene: 200 pissed-off, hungover commuters packed like battery chicken into a tiny compartment, each of whom is trying to breath the same minute parcel of sweaty warm air whilst passing everybody else get-lost glances. As if that's not enough you've got some brat kid wiping his bogeys over your dry-cleaned suit while his brother shouts inane babble at the top of his voice.
Then comes the coup de grace; the doors close and, Luck be my Lady this morning, the driver is Bobby Cheerful from Happyland. He proceeds to give a running commentary of the hour-long journey. The highlights of which included his telling everybody of his desire to get something hot inside him (fnarr-fnarr), and an off-key rendition of 'Hi-ho hi-ho it's off to work we go, with a bucket and spade, and a hand grednade...' Laugh? I nearly pissed myself. Haven't laughed so much since Granny caught her left tit in the mangle. I would also like to extend a special thank-you to him for his impression of the automated train PA system. What is more some of my fellow commuters were laughing out loud at this wittering simpleton. Grrr. Far be it from me to cast the first stone but there really is no need that on Monday morning. Pfft!
Published: November 19, 2002