Start As You Mean To Go On

2 Dec

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As I arrived at the station this morning the sight above greeted me. His legs were further agape than that when I first got there and once I assumed my position he decided to stand a little more demurely. He wasn’t facing the tracks, he was facing the steps and so facing the oncoming train. This is most odd and I have never seen this bloke before in my place. The train was slightly delayed with no reason given and there is no Amy Childs wannabe on board as Mondays are her worse day after her hardcore fuckwittery all weekend and her brain must be swollen. I had to move a VIB to sit down and I only did it to piss off the owner, like I give a fuck about his rucksack? Aaaah yes, he has got up to get off at Charlton and now I can reclaim the space that his spread legs took up. I would have taken a picture but seeing as he was sitting inside me, he may well have noticed. I ranted at the TV this morning when they said about how cyclists who have been polled were asked about how they now ride after six killed themselves last month, many said they now navigate busy junctions on the pavement and the reporter didn’t bat a fucking eyelid as if to say this was wrong. Fuck the pedestrians hey, let us all move aside for the mighty pricks on two wheels who own every domain on the planet. No road to narrow, no punishment too harsh. Fucking wankers. It’s all too much for a Monday morning. Amy Childs wannabe wannabe is now next to me and has spent the last five minutes putting on mascara, and that is on top of what she had on when she got on the train. She is going to need to throw her head back to open her eyes before too long. Happy Monday, Obborati.

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