Granny Smell

3 Mar

I am on the 18.46 and an old woman has just sat next to me who smells like a granny. That smell of slightly musty clothing combined with cheap moisturiser and a hint of wee. She looks like Miss Marple with the hat and grey cost and is sat with her legs akimbo so she can fit her huge bag in between them. It is a more pleasant scent than the vomit of Saturday I must admit but I would rather have no odour raping my nostrils at all. Some sort of train fuckery is going on this evening as the 18.34 left from platform four so fuck knows where the 18.30 left from. Not that I care as long as we get shifting on time. The smell of the gran is making me feel slightly nauseous now as it is sickly sweet she is reading the paper with her glasses on and it is as far away from her as possible so I presume she hasn’t realised she can get varifocal glasses yet. We are on the move and we are on time. Miss Marple keeps looking out the window past me and it is unnerving as I wonder if she is going to speak to me about a murder – it is always a murder when that biddy is involved. Her and Jessica Fletcher keep being involved with dead people… Why aren’t they being questioned by police? surely they are the common denominator in all those killings? I need to post. We have just collected the dregs of hell from London Bridge and I’m spent. All the Oscar action from today has worn me right our.

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

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