People and transport.....

Yes. In general, people shit me. But tranposrt- whether it be car, train, bus or ox...it's all the same.


Like idiots who are on the road thinking their penis is worth an extra lick by their slovenly companion if they take off with a 'roar' in their 1983 XD Falcon with no muffler. Grow some balls mate. Who the hell gives a fuck? Ooooo...what do you want- a cookie?


Or people who are on the train. Public transport in Melbourne is bad enough, but to put up with it with the idiots that ride within? Pleeaasee.

Morons who will not give up their seat for the life of them. When asked by a heavily pregnant woman (or sheman, depending what side of St Kilda you are from), they pretend not to notice. Or when someone who is on the downside of the slide of life asks, they tend to think that if they shut their eyes, the person may think that they are going senile in their old age, and perhaps there isn't actually anyone there to ask. Which makes for interesting viewing, since they'll try to mount said seat with Captain Snooze in it (eyes closed, so they're oblivious to what is happening).

Or then there are people who won't slide across one seat so that someone won't have to whack their sad excuse for a package with their bag as they step over them. Is little seat going to miss you if you leave it? Awwww...Have a cookie...take it away from the idiot in the Falcon.

Then there are the idiot schoolkids who are so insecure about their existence in big bad high school that they talk loudly and emit loud squarks (which the author assumes is some sort of mating call to other insecure fucks on the train). For Christ's sake- QUIET!!! I don't mind the one or two laughs from someone- Sure...people can be funny...especially if they are getting whacked in the package with someone's bag, or getting sat on by an elderly man, but don't keep at it. Remind me to come around to your place at 4am and pipe a recording of you into your ears....Stupid fuckwit.

If that wasn't enough to make you want to start to listen to Paris' album (don't tempt me, it's just too easy), then there are the ticket inspectors on trains/stations.

These lucky 'I can't run, shoot and am not partial to bribes, so I failed the police academy and late nights tire me out, so I can't be security so this is the next best thing' individuals are in charge of 'policing' our transport system. And what a stirling job they do.

They walk around, penis hanging out, with one hand fondling it and one hand on their trusty pad. The one pad....To Rule Them All...*cough* The pad that decides whether Pappa brings home the extra 50 cents commission for booking the 90 year old who is claiming he is not comitting a genocidal act- he is only trying to sit down on the seat with Captain Snooze that he still cannot see. And that badge...Oh baby...Flash it one more time...Do it for me...it turns me on soooo much...all that POWER. ABSOLUTE POWER.

Then when the 90 year old is booked, they try to gain the attention of the blonde they are mentally undressing with their penis (which they still fondle) by acting the big man by attempting to rough up the token speed freak who doesn't have a ticket. First the standing over, then the arm over the shoulder, then comes the signature 'move'. And no- it doesn't result in an orgasmic scream...Well..maybe for them...The bending back of the thumb if they fail to comply/try to run away. Yes- the old Chinese finger trick really hurts apparently. And these 'trained' experts deliver them at freakish speeds.

With the penis hanging out...and the 90 year old content as he is sitting (albeit on Captain Snooze, who we find out loves the leathery feel of old man skin)...and the man with the dented package who has now moved down for the person to sit with their bag...

Oh people shit me...