Never Ending Fuckery

26 Mar


More problems tonight on the trains so I am on the 18.30 and waiting to move. Hoping I am not turfed off again with a broken down train. Moving and it’s about 18.35 and I am Abbey Wood bound. Currently sitting opposite the moron above who hasn’t moved at all to let people into the seats nearby him as he is engrossed in some shit on his massive iPad with both headphones in. Someone behind is playing a game on their phone and the sound is not muted so we all must listen to the chirps and clicks and beeps emanating and then the fanfare when they finish that round. Fuck off love, we don’t need to know how thick you are playing that outloud on the train. Needless to say my headphones are in and the ipod is on helping me escape the fuckwittery. It still amazes me how many people get on and battle for a seat to go the one stop to London Bridge – why? One stop is about a minute. The wanker with his massive iPad is chewing gum and looking like a camel. One electrical device isn’t enough and while the video is still playing he is now on his phone – see below. Pick a dull pastime and stick to it dear. You can’t to both things at once because you have a penis. If I rolled my eyes anymore I will make myself sick so I shall stop. He keeps wiping his nose as well, and his chin, and then wiping whatever has come off of those onto his palm. What a catch, girls? Sitting with his legs agape as well to air his massive sweaty cock and balls. Makes me actually scream inside. It’s a wonder I haven’t been arrested for ABH yet. He will get off at Greenwich. Mark my words. He is that sort of stuck up trendy wannabe that lives in Greenwich. Rolled my eyes again. Really need to start wearing a blindfold when I travel to avoid seeing things that are so wrong. Speaking of seeing things that are wrong, check out the woman I saw at Liverpool Street at lunchtime when I ran to Pret with the magical unicorn – she knows who she is. The bottom picture – a pensioner (or just someone who has had a rough life) with cerise hair. I was baffled as you don’t see that sort of hair colour in EC postcodes and it is usually reserved for West End. He didn’t get up so he is still there fucking about and it’s all too much for him. I can take no more. Time to post so I van get involved in something less fuckwitted. Until the morrow, Obborati.





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


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