10 Mar

What a fucking day? I was mentally busy and kept forgetting where I was in the middle of when I had to get the door or answer the phone. This afternoon some dopey fuckwit kept calling from Bangladesh – I would answer as normal and they would either say nothing, or just make some wailing noise down the phone. On the sixth call they were told to either speak English or call the right number. Funnily enough they didn’t call back again so their English was better than they wanted us to know about. I an on the 18.46 which appears to be on time for the moment. I can’t see the clock though as the window is fucked. The double glazed seal has been broken and I can just see condensation which makes it look as if the glass is frosted. I would share a picture but the problem persists with the memory card. I don’t know what to do and to fix it will take ages as there is a massive amount of data on it. Perhaps this weekend. I booked a hair appointment for this weekend but that is all I have so I should get a chance inbetween laying down and watching TV. The wet cleaning team has been called to platform three. Fuck knows what delights they will find. I am guessing vomit even though it is a Monday night. There were a few people in the pub, but most people were walking and texting hoping for an invite and slowing me down. How dare they? Row with a moron at the bus at London Bridge this morning who just sidled up to the bus door and tried to get on. One man questioned him but he was ignored so big gob Bitch stepped in and stood our ground. He tried to say that he could do it “let me ask you a question – is the bus going anywhere?” and of course I just flounced past the fucker, said that it would if he hurried the fuck up and queued like the rest of us and took my seat. Fucking cheek of it. How dare he cross us queueing people? Doesn’t he know who we are? Obviously never got a bus from there before. He looked as rough as arseholes so maybe he has but nobody said anything for fear of being stabbed. I have enough cushioning to make sure I wouldn’t be fatally damaged. All the while the driver just sat with his arms crossed. Whatever Trevor. On the move on this train. Surrounded by VIB wankers and I am going to post before we collect more from London Bridge. Oh and we have stopped – great. Fuck this. I’m ready for bed.

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


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