Mad Ferrit

16 Feb

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In the words of Liam Gallagher, I am sitting in Manchester Piccadilly Station, waiting for the 12.55 to be ready to leave and I’m mad ferrit… Or mad for it as we say in English. I have been on the land of Mancs for less than 24 hours but what a time it has been. The coach up was suitable scummy but when the alternative luxury of the train was 80 quid there was no comparison. Today my train home is only 15 quid – now tell me how the fuck that works. Just been informed this train is short formed so there is no unreserved areas – genius. I am going to be ready to launch my first by the time we get to Euston but at least I have leg room. I also have an empty seat next to me until we reach Stockport. Fucking whiney northern kids though which are going to interrupt my religious moment listening to Oasis in their mother land. I have discovered while in Manchester that every time someone with the local accent has spoken to me, I keep expecting a punch line, and that it is all a long and elaborate joke. It might just be the after effects of Phoenix Nights Live from last night which was quite literally a laugh a minute from the mouths of northerners. There are so many people with huge bags getting on – how long are you going for to merit that shit? I have my handbag and one bag which still has room. I am glad to have a window on this train as didn’t have that privilege neither up or back from Glasgow last year. It is lunchtime and with lunchtime comes the vile honk of vile food from vile outlets such as Burger King and McDonald’s – it fucking stinks. I had some Mini Eggs which will be more than sufficient for my journey. Just watched a woman and her kid settle in two seats that are free until Crewe – but now they have both got up and moved. What the fuck? We are due to leave and haven’t moved yet… Is Virgin and Southeastern in cahoots? I am taking advantage of the empty seat now and my bag is being a VIB – fuck it, I deserve it. We are off – bye bye Manchester, it’s been fun.

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