Wet Stinking Fuckwit Monday

13 Oct

A gaggle of Jesus people were at Plumstead this morning all huddled right at the bottom of the steps. Wearing their Sunday best and now jamming me in to the corner seat and their Sunday best fucking stinks as if it has been shoved in the back of a wardrobe for about a year. Fucking hell – after all that pushing to get on and get a seat, they have all just got off at Woolwich. What was the fucking point? Just stand by the doors, fucking morons. I am pretty much soaked through this morning and my once straight hair is now furry. Monday is bad enough without rain and jesus people to contend with. The train was also pretty busy so I am sitting in a different sear to normal. Oh Christ, the gobby bitches have got on at Woolwich Dockyard and have sat near me. Time to post because it’s going to be hard enough without them harping on and on about a load of old shit. Ipod at the ready and I will share more later, I promise.

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