coffee and decorating.
Well at last the study has been started and I guess this has calmed me down a bit. Mmmmm progress. Still things are pissing me off and today's tirade is all about old women and buses. I mean what is the rush, I am polite and I will wait. There is no need to do a silly little run walk just to make sure that you get on in front of me, the bus has many seats, mostly they are all the same, same material, same support and I understand that you may well want to sit next to your friends have a natter and catch up on all your required near death information but I do not. I have very little interest in how much your pension is? What bargains you found at Aldi (other cheap tasteless food stores are available) and lastly I especially do not want to smell the forty gallons of Rose water that you all seem to secrete from all you pores in some kind of attempt to hide the smell of decay. So then no need to push in front and take the risk of breaking a hip or something.
So now we are in a queue, I like queues, they are non elitist, easy to understand and a nice place to meet people. I am quite rightly in front of you, I have been waiting for at least ten minutes and the bus arrives and I step on to the bus. But what's this? As I step onto the bus I seem to have grown a magic back arm, I feel it on my back and what's even better is that this magic arm has a bag on it and some kind of self propelling force that is pushing me forward in to the little compartment in which the driver sits, forcing my man sprouts in to the little let me in handle. Why would my new magic arm do this to me? It's then that I catch that smell, my gag reflex flexes and it all becomes clear. It's not my
f#€king arm, it's hers. The meek old lady, fragile, almost passed from this realm, now seems to have the strength of a bear (bear bear bear bear) and is trying to cancel out any future of mankind. Why? Is she so bitter and bored that this is her only fun, maybe she stalks the bus stops of the world, waiting until she can get behind a young gentlemen and then ruin his hacky sacks. If I can just point to the above paragraph I have no interest in being anywhere near you on the bus, but hey if you want to be close to me, or any human you can just attempt to sit next to me after I have safely and painlessly achieved on bus status. I will stare, not talk to you and generally pretend that you are not there but that is not to say that your seat will be just a little to small so you have to duffle over to my side just to get some warmth.
Warmth, so now it's time for coffee.
THAT IS ALL.
