55?

21 Apr

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Fuck knows what is going on but the 18.37 is due to arrive at Cannon Street at 18.55 but the app is apparently unaware of this – why? I checked the app after news that there was some fuckage and saw that it was all fine and the prolem must have been earlier on and we were clear now. I get to look at the boards on the concourse, see the delay for the 18.37 and screech “fucking 55? Well that is certainly some delay” to the amusement of the lady next to me who laughed. So now everyone is aboard the 18.46 – even the twats who were all waiting on platform five for the 18.37 and thought they were as smart as fuck to go there before the platform is announced. First rule of Southeastern is always wait for the platform announcement before going to the platform. Even then the information can be wrong but that is admittedly rare. Second rule of Southeastern is to ensure you shave and not to make the woman opposite you want to vomit with your Mr Twit beard. Yes, you’ve guessed it, a tattooed, skinny jeaned hipster is opposite with his vile beard and poofy hair. Oh, and a dainty little nose stud. Give me strength – I don’t want to see any aspect of your persona mate but I am forced to. We shall call this eye-rape. Christ he just smoothed the disgusting beard down, and at the same time brushed some of the crumbs away – I am ready to decorate the beard with vomit. No need to let it look like that. Stubble is fine and a light beard is also fine but a big old bush that looks like a 70s porn minge perched on your chin is not necessary and just makes you look you stink. Some sort of announcement was just made in the station but because the bloke is a twat who can’t string a sentence together, I was unable to hear a fucking word other than something about delayed by ten minutes. I can’t be arsed. Posting now so I can stare out the window away from Mr Twit and his disgusting beard.

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