Blissful Quiet

The long walk…

I wish every commute was like this. No delays, no pushing, no mouthing off, nice quiet carriage with about 8 people in total and a dog. I did have to walk what seemed 8 miles down platform 2 to get onto the train at Cannon Street but it was a world away from the usual melee of an evening commute. I saw what appeared to be a turd on the floor of the train but could possibly be some fake hair of some description. It is a wonder people have any hair left with the amount of weave I see disgarded on my travels. I haven’t don’t this journey in daylight for months now, and The Shard has come on a lot since I last saw it. The point isn’t far off now. At Westcombe Park which will be our destination tomorrow when scooting off into Central for the day. I have a little time to finish tidying when I get home, then getting all geared up for the O2.

A turd?

Tiddler coming to a head

Sorry for the spelling mistakes but it was posted with WordPress for BlackBerry dahling.
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7.31 Cancelled yet again

I believe the train in between went through though so we won’t be as busy as we were yesterday. That was ridiculous. I hope the rampant vegetarian isn’t on board today. Bonkers bint. She isn’t here, but the lady was and she saved me a seat – what a girl. Just chatting away about my days off now and looking forward to Christmas. The train has got busy, with the obligatory fuckwits standing by the door. Some weirdo has sat down next to me, with a big green cape on, wild plum coloured hair and her head in her hand. No idea why, perhaps she has a phobia of trains. I have had a Blackberry ringing in my ear from pocket height behind me most of the journey. Continuous messages coming through. “There is some little weasel that I’m going to ask if I can roll him off” is what its owner has just uttered from beneath his hood. Sounds a bit like wetter than an otters pocket… But more sinister. I have no idea what that means. We are stopped just before the final approach to London Bridge now – what a ball ache. But at least I won’t be doing this tomorrow morning. I keep getting whiffs of rank breath, which isn’t very pleasant at all, and the weasel roller is still whittering on with his wheezy laugh to his mate. Carol Kirkwood, I know you said it is going to rain later on, but can you cancel that please? I need dry. I cannot venture to the O2 with fluffy hair…

Sorry for the spelling mistakes but it was posted with WordPress for BlackBerry dahling.
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