Celeb Week

Started off in surreal fashion this week. Got on the train on Monday and sat next to a guy who was sitting awkwardly, defended the armrest with vigour and was constantly wriggling. Something was niggling me about this fellow passenger as I attempted to ignore his annoying antics and then, it hit me like a thunderbolt:

It was Mr Bean!

The geography teacher look, the hair scraped across his head in choirboy fashion and far away look in the eyes. The constant fidgeting and arsholery just sealed the deal.

Left him behind and got on the tube at Baker Street and pleased that it was quieter than normal. Pulling in to Green Park, then another star got on the train - it was the Indian Mr Bean! Brown geography teacher suit, scraped choirboy hair and the look of a man who was just going to be a royal pain in the arse for the journey. Fortunately, he stood farther away from me.

Then later in the week, travelling home in a reasonably busy train, I became aware of people looking at something. It's very subtle the way that the atmosphere shifts on the tube and on clicking into, you wonder whether someone was standing with a feckin axe behind you because it would probably raise the same response. In this case, it was a famous person on the tube, as it happens.

No other than Renton / Obi Wan-Kenobi himself, Ewan McGregor.

Standing with his wife and daughter, he was crammed into a corner trying to look invisible but the eagle eyed eejits on the train caught sight of him. I got off at Baker Street and he moved to let me off and I thanked him. He then asked me if I was the writer of Arsehead Chronicles and could he get my autograph?

I feel sorry now for telling him to shove it but I didn't want him being a pest.

Lastly, I saw a chap on the carriage who could've been an older and dirtier Catweasel. Tall, grubby, smelly, with a big belly and skinny everything else, wearing sandals and hairy socks. Long grey dirty hair framed his long face and as he smelled out the carriage, he looked at the map, then announced to everyone close by who clearly didn't give a rat's arse, that he was going the wrong way.

He got off and disappeared into the tube system at the next stop but the smell of him lingered to remind us that he had been there.

Two Mr Beans, Obi Wan-Kenobi and Catweasel on the tube in one week. They really were walking among us.

Bummed out.

I use the Jubilee line on London Underground to travel between Marylebone and work. In the morning, the tube can get very busy and sometimes when the doors open, especially at Waterloo, the biggest load of fecktards known to man spill on and keep going until there's little space.
On the way home, it's usually a bit less crowded and more pleasant place to travel, spoiled by the more than occasional shagwit.

Tonight, it was a real pain in the derriere.

All was going well, decent space, no stand out shagwit and peace to wind down from the day's work, thoughts filled with getting home. There was even a decent looking girl with a nice dress and no discernible underwear, which was a huge Brucey bonus. I was even in plenty of time to catch a decent time train home with the chance of getting to my train early for a pick of the seats. Result!

Or so I feckin thought.......

The train stopped at Green Park and stayed there for longer than normal and then long enough for it to get annoying. Then we hear that we are being held at lights because of an intruder on the line at Wembley stacked all the trains back, which lead to a partial suspension of the line.

I got on the Victoria Line to Oxford Circus to get the Bakerloo line to Marylebone. Seemed like the whole Jubilee line had thought of this as the platform was rammed. I refuse to get on a train that's rammed or about to be rammed and watched a few trains go with an unholy collection of eejits cramming themselves into spaces you wouldn't think would be possible. There was one sweet moment as a grinning buffoon squeezed on and saw his head was sticking out of the door.....still grinning that smug, gormless grin.

It was wiped off his face sharpish as the closing door smacked him a heck of a shot and as he moved his, there wasn't the space to go where he wanted and it hit again, then a third time before closing on his face. As the train went, I saw what looked like a snotter line on the window and his nose pressed up against the glass in a most unnatural position.

I laughed out loud at the twunt while looking him in the eye.

Got on the train and it was busy but not crammed together, until we stopped at Regents Park, where an Indian family decided to bring two strollers on the train. First I knew was that the guy in front of me backed into me quickly like we were in Parkhurst prison showers and I was the chosen one. If he had offered to buy me a drink or dinner I'd have politely declined his sweet offer but in this, I was a bit of a passenger. The guy next to me was pissing himself as the eejit bent over to get his briefcase out of the strollers way and was backing onto me like a stripper working fucking hard for her tip.....or mine come to think of it.

By this time, the guy next to me was having trouble standing due to hysteria at the sight of me being the unwitting participant in a stealth bum that wasn't so stealthy.

All that, I missed my train, which was delayed due to another slow running train in front, unwillingly received a stand up lap dance, no drink or dinner bought for me and got home late. All due to some numbnuts who decided to trespass on the train tracks, probably as a short cut home.

I hope he electrocuted his nuts and bumhole.

Short Delay

This was reported recently from Australia http://www.thesaid.net/news/train-driver-caught-masturbating-during-delay/ and I believe the driver is now heading for the UK to work for the First Group as he has heard he has just the right characteristics to fit in well.


A TRAIN DRIVER on Melbourne’s Sunbury line was caught masturbating in the driver’s cabin after he told passengers there would be a “short delay”.
At 9.31am Monday, the Sunbury train departed Flinders Street. As the train approached Southern Cross, the train had stopped, and the driver announced “There will be a short delay”. Rosie Williams, 24 was already late to work due to a previous delay on her connecting Hurstbridge line, and she became impatient.
“He didn’t say how long the delay would be or why there is one, so we were waiting for a good five minutes. I lost my temper.”
Williams reports that she approached ticket inspectors on the train to see if they could resolve the cause of the delay.
The inspectors had entered the driver’s cabin and found Ian Higgins, 34, masturbating. He was completely naked.
Inspectors ordered him to put his clothes back on and arrive at Southern Cross, where they would call the police and have him arrested. Inspector Dale Rob said that what he saw was “disgusting”.
“Clearly these drivers think they can stop the trains whenever they like and conduct whatever business they like, and say it’s a ‘delay’. What passenger is going to know?
We’ve caught drivers stopping trains just to have a cigarette out the window of the cabin.”

Guide to being an annoying prick while commuting.........

For those of you reading this who are normal, here is a guide to be the most annoying prick while commuting. While I've set this by train, the same could be said when going by bus.

For the record, all of this happens to me most days and happened to me today.

1. When approaching a near empty train platform, find someone and stand very close to them, preferably just behind them in their blind spot when no other fucker is on the platform.
2. For maximum effect, walk in front of the mark every so often and stand directly in front of them.
3. Even though the train is on time, take your phone out, check the time and glare down the track to see if the train is coming, while all the time dancing near the mark.
4. Stand in front of mark again, just to get them going.
5. Ask the mark if the train will be rammed and if you will get a seat or not.
6. Push your way onto train first.
7. While people are trying to sit on train, take your time to put your bag on the rack, take your jacket off, put it on the rack, take jacket off the rack, take articles out of pockets, put jacket back, fanny about a bit more, notice people waiting on you getting the fuck out of the way so they can sit down and smile that gormless grin again.
8. Sit near or next to the mark and grin at them every so often in that gormless fashion.
9. When the bing bong of the driver's announcement is heard, jump up as if you are Rocky and block the feckin aisle again.
10. Stand with arse positioned in the mark's face.
11. Walk closely to the mark to the barriers.
12. When getting on tube, repeat steps 2,3,4 & 6.
13. Stand in doorway, especially while pulling a stupid arsed bastard of a rolling case after the mark has had the good manners to allow to embark first. Just stand there in the doorway and when mark goes past you, say in an upper class twat voice 'Sorry!' followed by 'I am sorry!'
14. When good looking girl gets on, stand between her and the mark, shoving your arm in her face obscuring the view. If that doesn't work, take a freebie newspaper and put it in her face to achieve maximum annoyance.
15. On changing tube trains, hover by the door with a gormless look, no grin and act like you are terrified by the very fact that you are out in the world......and block the door.
16. While boarding next train, make sure you have the world's biggest and most awkward backpack on and barge your way on the train.
17. Stand in the doorway to block the way out at the next station.
18. Have goofy look on your stoopid gizzard.
19. Form a rolling roadblock with other members of the Fuckwits' union (FU) as you go upstairs to cause maximum annoyance.
20. Limp in unison as fall about in slow motion.
21. Push your way into the queue at the escalators.
22. Change your mind part way up and walk up the escalator.....then stop.
23. Get to barrier, fiddle for your card at the slowest fucking pace known to man. Have ticket rejected. Try to force barrier. Fail. Try again, several times. Look daft but don't move from the barrier. Get upset when staff try to help
24. Once through the barriers, walk as slowly as possible in the area of traffic flow just to be a twat.
25. Tut as people go past you.
26. When getting on train home, sit next to the tired guy and talk loudly with your friend about fuck all of any consequence, horses and riders who even your friend doesn't know.
27. Get worried that the train manager will charge you £1000 for not having the right ticket.
28. Almost cry when he charges you £11.50.
29. Engage people around you, even tired guy, to show your relief you haven't been raped by the train manager and driver for not having the right ticket.
30. When leaving train, run like a spanner to your car, right up the backside of others, so that you can get out one car space earlier.

As said, this all happened to me today. Take care out there as they walk among us......and bug the shite out of every normal person out there.

Genetic Experiment

Heading home on Friday on the Jubilee line, there were the usual stinking eejits, the guys who wouldn't give up their seats and when asked by a disabled chap if he could sit down, the woman got up.

Not a single guy got up to offer her a seat and did the standard tube passenger thing of looking like they have got not a clue of what is going on around them. I find it quite appalling to see fit men sitting and not offering seats to others but it is a sad reflection of the downward spiral of standards and manners in the UK.

Now, on this journey home, I saw something that still has my feckin brain scrambled. And this is coming from a guy who saw David Icke on the Southbank, so I've seen some freaky looking nutters.

I turned and was met with this - an average sized man in a black suit with a pointy goatee beard. Not much there, you say but when I tell you that this guy looked the botched experiment which fused together DNA of Emperor Ming the Merciless, Joliet Jake Blues and Zed from MiB. The hair was short, died black, standing up on top and the back of his head was flat.

Completely flat.

Like ironing board flat.

I looked a little closer and around Joliet Jake's pot belly, were the ghosts of lunches, dinners and drinks past. There may even have been a snack or two lurking there too. None in the beard though, which was freaky in itself. It was a goatee but grown long in a Fu Manchu way, minus the whiskers and this, with the standy uppy hair gave him a look of Emperor Ming the Merciless. Real pity that Flash Gordon wasn't round to kick the living shit out of him.

Then, when the little chubby hand came up to stroke the beard, I noticed that the face and the hand were different in colour. Not in a Michael Jackson way but in the sense of his face had seen false tan where his hand hadn't, which again seemed pretty feckin freaky.

Sometimes, I love the tube and London for throwing up these people and giving them a place to just be different to the usual bad attitudes in suits and the BO eejits who inflict themselves on everyone else. On the same journey, I accidently stood on someone's foot and apologised. He just laughed and we had a pleasant conversation about naff all, then went on about our journeys.

They may walk among us and sometimes, they are to be embraced. Good on you, Genetic Experiment Man.

Announcements

For those who travel regularly, you'll know that most train station announcements are automated and pre-recorded, which means you can understand everything that is being said clearly with each perfect annunciation.

So, imagine my surprise and amusement when this little gem shattered the airwaves at the train station, shouted in bored fashion by a female Oxfordshire voice, "Everyone check their tickets as there is a return portion to London been left here".

Where here was located was left unsaid, so as we guessed it was the ticket office, everyone had their eyes glued on who the unfortunate person might be, but to no avail.

Hope they got their ticket.

A different day, there was another cracker on the train itself. Getting on the train, you normally hear the driver telling you where we're going just in case we forget but this day, not a bit of it. "No bikes are allowed on board on a Monday morning. Please remove the bike from the train."

Then a few minutes later, "No bikes. Yes, I mean you. You will need to leave the train."

Smiles on the faces all around and although we couldn't see the transgressor, I personally hoped it as was one those MAMIL twats who seem to be the most deranged human beings and personify everything that is Daily Mail. Get off the train, you fluorescent gnome and be outraged on the platform at yet another driver's vindictive action is proof of their psychosis.

Sweet.

Then, heard another gem at Marylebone when trying to get home last night, "Erm...apologies ladies & gentlemen for the lateness of arrival of trains tonight as this is due to erm a.....erm....faulty train earlier which is causing trains arriving to be delayed....as well as trains departing.....erm......due to the faulty train earlier. Apologies for any convenience <yes, he said convenience> caused due to trains arriving late here at Marylebone.....as well as departing".

Never give an eejit a microphone.

The big exception is London Underground who have platform announcers who in the main are very good as well as drivers who are usually clear and to the point. Once in a while, they produce some gems and other days are just downright annoying.

Like the driver who droned on and on about the escalator outage at Baker Street, even after we'd passed it and then started on about the delay due to a defective train earlier. Without stopping. From Marylebone to Waterloo.

The relentless prick.

Or the Indian guy at Baker Street who no-one can understand. Or the guy with the street voice making an announcement about the service levels and just barely contained himself from adding 'Innit?'

They had Boris welcoming us to London as well on the tube, which was most disconcerting and had me looking for prick just in case he was on the platform. Never found him though.

This morning on the Jubilee line, a station announcer with a very chirpy voice perked up with the usual "Let customers off the train first before boarding" delivered in a very enthusiastic style in an extremely well delivered and infectious smiley tone. "This train is for STANMORE!" she shouts.

The driver's intercom clicked on immediately and he just shouted "YAY!", which had me pissing myself at the comic timing and the two announcers were dissolving in laughter too, trying to hold it together. Looking around, a lot of people were laughing and smiling at this - it fair gave me a lift in the morning.

More of the laughter please as it reminds us that we are all human. Sometimes, it's great to remember that some good people do walk among us.

Curious case of trouser fashion.

Picture the scene - it's a pleasant Friday morning at the train station. Peaceful as it's the end of mid term week, with Friday's usually quieter and as I elected to take a later train, no Girlfriends, Boys' Town Gang, Poison Grannie or the usual eejits.

Finding a place on the platform completely to myself, the first tranche of shagwit appears. Nobody near me for twenty yards but one plank decides to stand within 5 feet of me, which was puzzling, followed by an older woman who decides to stand directly behind the other eejit, which then made it difficult for anyone passing to get through.

Why do they do this?

Anyway, not the point. As the platform starts to fill, a chap stands near me and I am looking at his pinstripe suit with bold striped shirt wondering why he likes stripes so much to look like a tiny stripy......thing. I become aware of people further down looking at a chap passing and a ripple as he heads up the platform towards me and The Stripe, which I couldn't understand until he came into full view.

The Stripe also clocked him and regarded him with a look that is best described as perplexed amusement. The guy was dressed in a linen shirt, blue jacket, camel chinos and brown shoes. Sounds normal, right? Yes, until you realise his trousers finished at the top of his blue socks.

Even more perplexing was the fact that he had turn ups to create this look, so it was meant, not the result of an accident or a very sudden growth spurt nor grabbing the wrong trousers when he ran out in the morning.

First thing it reminded me of was at school when someone's trousers were a bit short, we asked them if their granny or budgie had just died as that meant that mundane things such as trouser length was overlooked.

Don't think that was the problem though as this guy was walking the swagger of a man who thinks he's chocolate and about to take a large bite out of himself, not the look of a grieving person. He had no clue that he looked ridiculous and everyone was having a laugh at his expense, even The Stripe, who was enjoying this tremendously.
Remember, that The Stripe at the top of this post was cutting a strange figure by his mode of dress and it goes to show that no matter how much of an eejit you are or look, there is always someone out there willing as well as able to make you feel somewhat superior.

They walk among us......