Another Miscarriage?

Trains are fucked again due to a passenger falling ill and I wonder if it might be another miscarriage like there as recently on a Southeastern train and the driver let everyone know. I’m on the 18.30 and it is 18.37 and we are still waiting to go. I was going to get the 18.46 which was looking to be mostly on time but it won’t be so I’m walking from Abbey Wood again which I wasn’t going to do as I have a large bag with me but I can always hop on a bus if needs be. Sitting near the doors but with a douche with his shit Apple headphones on and I’m listening to all his rubbish music while trying to keep the rage inside. You may well have seen my tweet from this morning referring to a woman in a green coat at London Bridge and I can now share the story in full – I bet you can’t wait. So there is a long queue but nowhere near long enough to mean people couldn’t get on and get a seat. The fatty in front of me starts to panic thinking she won’t be able to get on and becomes a meerkat, and keeps looking to see where the next bus was and it starts to come. So she stops dead when she sees the bus coming and stop next to me, I want to keep walking as I know I will be able to get on the one already there and that’s when little miss pea-green coat decides to push in. Obviously I tell her there is a queue and she said she saw the lady stop to get on the other bus. This excuse doesn’t wash with me and she is again told there is a queue and this is when my bitch switch was flicked as she replied, as she touched my arm and tilted her head to one side “I’ll think we will manage though” – no love. It doesn’t work like that. People queue and you respect that so I called her a silly  patronising cow and she didn’t like this. I felt I was very reserved in my insult and I stated facts. She stomped onto the bus in front of me because she thinks she was in the right and then wished me a lovely day. I told her it would be very nice indeed because she was going upstairs. As always when I have these alternations, the rest of the bus looks at me as if I am mental and as usual I just let them know that I didn’t give a fuck. Christ the platform is rammed at London Bridge so now I’m going to post and listen to my own music instead of this tinny wank coming from the ghetto fabulous wannabe to my left.

Leap Day 2016

Random man just checked down the tracks to see if a train was coming, saw nothing and turned to me and shook his head – the train isn’t due for four minutes mate so what the fuck? It may be an additional day and I am surprised that Southeastern isn’t running a special off peak timetable today but it’s not late yet. It will arrive late as I’ve already tracked it coming in but he can’t see that far down the line. It arrived almost on time and he isn’t here again so I am pretty confident to report a full win against the fold-up bike wanker – he daren’t come back after his stupid outburst. Saying that I’d love to see him again and bait him again – that was so fun. Just managed to open the window as I shimmied along into the window seat – the heating is absolutely belting out and I’m sweating. There is no need for that much heat on these trains especially after people walk to get the train. Aaah of course, not everyone does walk. I might add that I am yet to get the bus in the morning to get the train and I’ve only got the bus the other way in the evening when I have got the train home late – good hey? So to my thoughts on the Oscars – Leo definitely didn’t deserve that Oscar, neither did Sam Smith and his best “original” song that is a rip off of Michael Jackson and the rest I didn’t really pay much attention to. Tom Hardy may as well have not even bothered to go even though they put him in an aisle seat – he had no chance. He looks luscious though of course. The rest of my day today will be spent in search of finding someone to propose to… We must embrace the leap day tradition.

New Shoes

Probably not my best idea but I’m wearing brand new shoes and I am crippling a little bit. Thankfully, a dirty spitting and snot shooting chav was there along the walk to the station to distract me so I forgot about the pain momentarily and concentrated on viewing and trying to pass the vile scumbag who spat and blew snot out of his nostrils all the time I was behind him. I managed to pass and then the fucker caught me up after deciding not to leak liquids for a moment and as soon as he passed me he was back at it. No Debbie this morning but the train arrived on time and was a little busier than usual so I have a feeling the “fast” train was cancelled and guess who isn’t showing his smug little face yet again today – yes, fold-up bike wanker. No sign so I think I can safely say 1-0 to BdJ and that is always the scoreline I like to see. Now who has the smug face, hey? That’s a good Friday feeling. I’m going to post now because I’m all out this week – very tired and I am hoping for a quiet day at work… We’ll see.

Will He, Won’t He?

I was pumped waiting for the train this morning, wondering if the fold-up bike wanker was going to be on. I had my lines all ready to say when he asked me why I’m not asking him to move today and I was ready to sit and laugh again when he started hurling abuse. The train pulled in and I had my eyes PEELED to see if he was there and no – he has bailed. Not a single sign of him and his vileness is on board and I shall take this as a win. He knows he is a vile piece of work and has got a different train. I feel for the people he is inflicting himself on today but as long as it’s not me or people like me who have a brain and don’t stand for that shit then that’s fine. I read up on Southeastern bike rules and he breaks them as his bike isn’t a Brompton and the wheels are bigger than 20cm so he needs to jog the fuck on. I’m tickled he isn’t here – how funny? Of course I thought about him a lot yesterday after our encounter. What sort of moron buys a fold-up bike for commuting to save money and time and then spends money on a train ticket for Southeastern – what a false economy. Then again he is as thick as shit so it’s no wonder that he does what he does. His wife must be so proud – I was going to ask him if he hits her because he certainly seems the type. He wouldn’t hit a stranger because it would be too public but his wife, behind closed doors, is a definite. Time to post and ponder again on the fuckwittery that is the fold-up bike wanker.

Wednesday Wanker

Today the wanker is me – hurrah. I get to the station and ball airer is stood facing down the tracks with his legs agape as always airing his balls. I’m fed up of his shit and I’m listening to some sassy music and so I just stood right in his way and close enough to ensure he hates me. No longer can he see when the train is coming but instead he has a fantastic view of the side of my fat head. Good, eh? Karma is a bitch and payback is sweet. I should stand with my legs wide apart and even further in the way but I can’t be arsed to turn my back to him for fear of having to look at his fugly mush. Aaaah the train and finally I’ve moved the fold-up bike wanker and man he has problems. Not only has he called me a fat c*nt but also given me more lip that I care to remember. So much so that I told him that in another life we would get on SO well. I asked him to move and then as I was sitting down I said “and I get off at London Bridge by the way” and he really didn’t like this and questioned me. I just replied I was letting him know so he can move his massive bike out the way and again with the “oh fuck off you fat c*nt” but hey, do I care? Nope.  Not a single bit. I came what I meant to do and have been gagging to do for weeks and that is to get the fucker to realise that we don’t want him on our train. What a vile person and an absolute typical cyclist – all about him, but he thinks that’s his right. It always makes me laugh when people call me fat – and it amazes me how a cyclist can be this alert when on a train and notice the fatness but put the fucker on a road and they have NO idea what they are doing. I keep chuckling about it and he is hating it. I am fucking loving this. He is typing furiously on both of his phones – no napping for him today, hey. Shame. Anyway, time to post and I’m looking forward to London Bridge where no doubt he will call me fat yet again and I will laugh and thank him for noticing. What a moron.

Monday Hell

Rain? Check. School children everywhere? Check. Delayed train? Check. Standard Monday then with added Southeastern fuckery for good measure. The carriage is slightly posher than usual and it is a lot brighter – we have a carriage from another line meaning that the usual stuff for the shit line is either dirty or broken and this carriage is filling in. The woman and her loud spawn are here and I notice that they go to school in Westminster by the writing on the school bag – how the hell does that work? They certainly don’t pay fees to go to a school and they don’t live nearby – I might have to do some digging about that school and see what the entry requirements are. Oddly they are quiet today and there are only two of the spawn with her rather than three. I’m going to post now because I need something to perk me up and that is called the ipod.

Friday I’m In Love

It’s finally here and the trains seem to be on time which is good. It can be as delayed as it wants once it collects me but as long as it gets to me on time I will be as happy as I can be having to get a train with the collection of fuckwits that I have to get the train with. Last day of half term and it all seems to be a bit quieter than a usual Friday – not a single livestock waiting in the ticket hall area this morning which is very strange. I don’t know why they wait there but they do, all huddled together waiting for the train to come in and then running down the steps to get on at my doors. On board and still quiet. Fold-up bike scum in his usual place and the bike isn’t even full folded up today so it’s sticking out even more. To my right is a woman applying her makeup and she’s making a meal out of it. Currently applying seventeen costs of cheap mascara instead of applying one of a more expensive brand that doesn’t require that many layers – when will they learn? Actually I see she is putting Mally on… That shit doesn’t need that many layers love. She’s going to have to chip that off when she gets home later. Still she goes, this is two minutes solid now and she was already in full application when I got on. Finally she’s put her wand back and has stopped jabbing at her eyelashes. Christ now she has a cotton wool bud to get rid of where she’s made mistakes. I haven’t needed to do that since I was about 17. Love, if you just got out of your scabby pit sooner you would have time to put that shit on at home and while sitting still and thus save a fortune on buds. Fuck me now the mascara is out AGAIN at Woolwich Dockyard. I actually can’t believe this. How does she need this much? I need to post so I can potentially try and video this transformation for your viewing pleasure…

Can’t Be Arsed

Trains are fucked – surprise. I can’t be arsed to even summon the strength to post the same shit I always do. I have two pics – lycra-clad fold-up bike wanker (sweating) and a chugger. That is all for this evening as I am Abbey Wood bound.

Hot Hell

Again there was a delay advertised early doors, but the train left on time and STILL managed to get to me three minutes late. I got to the station at 7.35 and saw the 7.31 leave so that was late but as the fast train was only slightly late thus train isn’t too busy – thank fuck. In a window seat by Woolwich Arsenal even if that fold-up bike wanker is behind and today I think he has one of his iPhones plugged in to the train power supply which is by the doors behind the seat and this is usually carried out by ghetto skanks and drug dealer wannabes instead of the lycra-clad fuckwits. Talking of ghetto skanks there are two sitting in the seats in front who both tried to push in front of me to get on and both kissed their teeth when they were put back in their box – don’t fuck with me bitches. The one in front of me has her hair sitting on top of the back of the seat and keeps flicking more and more up onto the scabby looking mound. It stinks and they are talking absolute shit. Ugh I’m going to post as I now have a makeup bitch to my right which means I must sit perfectly still while she draws on slugs for eyebrows. Sexy, hey?

Baaa Baaa Dumb Sheep

The 18.20 has just left at 18.30 and the actual 18.30 was cancelled and the number of people cramming on to that train that I’m pretty sure will all get off before Charlton is shocking. It was absolutely rammed. I am on the 18.37 which arrived slightly late and at platform four as the 18.20 was still at platform five and it is empty – I’m so glad I’m not a sheep. Love when this happens – just wait five minutes for the next train and travel in relative comfort compared to the utter hell of that 18.20 that just left. Above is an image that we all see too often; fold-up bike hanging off the arm of a lycra-clad middle aged man who really can’t get away with lycra and looking like a complete and utter twat. If you don’t have the thighs and ass of Sir Chris Hoy then leave that shit at home and just snap on some bicycle clips if you insist on travelling via fuckwitmobile. It is embarrassing for humans everywhere. Witty retort to a Benny this morning occurred at London Bridge this morning. He is stood at the ticket barrier blocking the way of course and is having a conversation with some ticket inspector Bennys about six barriers down at the top of his voice. Just as I came through to touch out on the side of him I could get through, he bellows “yeah I really hate it” and quick qs a flash I shout “what, your job mate?” and of course they are dumbfounded because they don’t think people can be so quick witted, gorgeous and intelligent as I am and also so modest. Gobby, scruffy looking arseholes every single one of those Bennys who would rather stand and shout shit at each other than actually do the job they are paid to do. Pulling out two minutes late this evening and blissfully empty. Time to post and stare at the orange girls opposite who keep shooting me dirty looks – you are on public transport love, you are no better than me.