Bus Full of Bastards

Buses. I take them every day. To and from work. Every day. And they are, every day, steel skinned bastard tubes chock full of smelly, inconsiderate, miserable, talking bastards.

The fuckers with all their bags on the seat next to them always piss me off (although I delight in finding them so I can get them to move all their shit so I can sit down) but they pale next to the selfish shits who put their foul, filthy, outside-covered shows on the seat in front of them just because years of family in-breeding and a lifetime of being pampered by lazy scum parents have left them with an innate belief that they have the god-given right to act any way the fucking please and fuck you pal. And if this means draping their mud-caked old trainers over the only seat left on the bus so you have to either stand or ask them to move for the absolute honour of putting your clean clothes on the dirty wet patch they have left for you then they have every right to do that so fuck you pal.

The unmitigated bastards.

They deserve someone twatting them in the ankles with a nine-iron. I could quite easily spend half an hour listening to the wailing cacophony of half-a-dozen clit scabs screaming about their broken ankles. Anything to drown out the cunts on their mobiles.

Oh now they are annoying. Weapons grade annoying. 100% cast iron annoying. More annoying than almost anything I can think of right now*.

Take the blonde bird who gets on near the Halifax bank. I say bird as I’m guessing that’s what she calls herself in what she might think was an ironic fashion if she thought she knew what irony was. But she won’t. But she still does it. Probably calls herself a ladette and geezer bird with a woefully misplaced sense of pride**. She gets on the bus talking fast and loud into her small black bastard box and she doesn’t stop all the way home. Not once. Just keeps going. Squawk after woof after cackle. I’d say she must breathe through her arse but as she sits on that and somehow unfortunately manages not to die of asphyxiation I can only deduce she has gills in her eyes. That alone should be enough to have her stoned to death as a mutant, but why the police have not stormed the bus and dragged her off by her tits for being an ear polluter I simply do not know. Must be a conspiracy between the police and the phone companies. That can be the only answer. Why else would witless bumburps like her be allowed to moo into the air non-stop? And why in the name of all that is shitty do these people always bray on about the most pointless things in the kind of English that can only be mastered after years of dutifull pissing about at school and learning fuck all***? It’s all “an I tol im like that I wan like that right and he just tol me that I shud just piss off the bastard and I had me er done an everythin like but you know wat es like dnt ya hes a bastard but I love im you know wat I’m like like”. Times 100. Non stop.

Many years ago, whilst messing about with a mini-home mixing desk, I taped a conversation I was having with my friend. I played it back just to see how the desk performed and I was genuinely horrified to hear my own voice. A nasal whine peppered with unnecessary swearing that made me sound like a hod-carrying buffoon of the lowest order. I resolved there and then to not only stop swearing in every day speech, but to give up speaking altogether for the good of humanity. Both pledges, needless to say, I failed to keep. Sorry the World.

Well that’s what this gezzerbird needs. Some form of external 3rd party recording system quietly, mutely taped her actions throughout the day and then sat her down when she got home and played back to her just how ball-slappingly ignorant and annoying she has been. I then imagine she would weep for the rest of the night and drink bleach, but I’d settle for her not bellowing into her fucking phone every time she gets on my bus, the cunt.

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* Let’s see. Sand in your eye. The kids of parents with no idea or desire to check their offspirngs’ behaviour. Supermarket shopping. The fact I can never find sunglasses that fit my stupid wide head. Or a nice watch I actually like. My boss. Cat shit. Cats. People who have cats. The failure of technological convergence. All these in the few seconds it took me to write “Oh now they are annoying. Weapons grade annoying. 100% cast iron annoying. More annoying than almost anything I can think of right now*” and bus seat hogging bastards are still more annoying.

** These pricks are thick and ignorant to the point of art form but somewhere deep down they know this is not how other people behave so they create a cocoon of false pride to protect them from the crushing weight of the absolute truth that their behaviour is simply wrong. It must also help them cope with being shit at everything bar breeding and mooing loudly. Canadians! Stop hitting baby seals and come here to cull these cunts, you work-shy wankers.

*** I’m constantly amazed by how people get through 11 or 12 years of basic schooling without learning a single thing. How is it possible to go through school and not know that New Orleans is not on the flight path from Manchester to Ibiza, or what apartheid is, or what happened in Chernobyl****. How? By the law of averages you must come out of the school system with more information than you went in with. These dumb planks seem to come out with just what they’ve leant from trial and error in the bits between schooling – how to get dressed in a manner that avoids death, how to txt and how to breed. They are the true walking dead and they are already everywhere – it’s a class 3 outbreak and we never even noticed it happening.

**** All real examples – the New Orleans one came about during the recent news coverage of hurricane Gustav when I was asked by a colleague if said hurricane would affect their flight to the party capital of cultureless cockends. This person also berated ‘them’ for giving the hurricane such a stupid name. By ‘them’, I think they mean the World Meteorological Organization and by stupid I guess they were angered that the fact they couldn’t pronounce Gustav. Not even close. Despite help.