I'd like to bring to your attention a blogger called Desperate Danny who has a blog on this site.
For the second time in a week or so, he's thought it would be very nice to enter a comment into my blog simply to advertise HIS blog.
I've deleted it again, but since he's soooo desperate to advertise his blog, I'm posting it in MY blog. This way you'll all see how extremely well thought out and erudite his comment is.
I would urge you all to ignore his blog or report him for spaming my blog and no doubt countless others.
I hope he gets a big lump of coal for Christmas. Get a life Danny and get off my blog.
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Monday, December 11, 2006 2:57:13 AM
Monday, December 11, 2006
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Get The Hell Out Of My Way!
There’s been a recent campaign from the mayor of London: 7 Million Londoners, 1 London. Nice thought, except that lately, it feels like six million, nine hundred and ninety nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine of them are in front of me!
Let me explain. I’m at the bus stop this morning and am the only one there. After a few minutes more people arrive and stand around looking into space. The bus pulls up at a random spot no where near the bus stop sign and everyone rushes to get on the bus. Um, hello? I was here first! Not that it seems to matter to any of them.
That’s six people in front of me. Then I try to get on the bus. There’s lots of space upstairs, but they just stand in the aisles making it hard to get on. The bus driver has apparently forgotten about the upstairs and just takes off. So I’m crammed on there and on the next stop two people get off who pushed their way on! Lazy bastards!
I squeeze my way off at the tube station. Three people in front of me at the ticket gate. Apparently, it comes as a complete surprise to one person that they need a ticket and start rummaging about their person for it. I count that person as doubly stupid, so that’s four people. One rude woman’s Oyster card doesn’t work at the gate beside me, so she backs up and pushes her way in front of me, not a word of apology. She’s a fat rude bitch, so I’ll count her as three. So now, that’s a total of 13 (are you counting?).
Now the fun of the tube. I stand aside when the doors open (like a good little commuter) and let the passengers off first. But before I can get on, let alone those still getting off, more people push their way on. That’s another 10 I reckon. Up to 23 now!
It’s the reverse next as I try to get off the train. Clearly the people waiting to get on don’t understand if you don’t let people off, you won’t be able to get on. I politely shout ‘get the hell of the way’ to a dozen brain-dead idiots. Thirty-five and counting.
I pop into Tesco Express to get some lunch. Its busy, so of course hardly any of the tills are open. I quickly deduce which line is likely to move the fastest and join the queue. A little old lady says “excuse me, I’ve only got one thing, do you mind if I go ahead”. That’s another one! “Of course not” I say, always being polite to little old ladies, but secretly think, well, soon it will be one LESS Londoner. I’m second from the front, then the spotty kid on the till says “I’m closing”. You’ve only bloody opened for god’s sake! I join another queue and mutter under my breath, “36, 37, 39, 40, 41”.
I’m already on edge, so decide what I need is a nice frothy cappuccino before I get to work. There’s a queue at Starbucks, but at least they have those little rope things. I take my place and plan my day in my mind. Great, I’m second from the front now…won’t be long. But wait, someone walks in, realises their work colleague is at the front of the line and says, oh, hey, can you get me three double half fat extra hot vanilla lattes for the girls? Bollocks! All I wanted was a regular cappuccino and now there are four overly complicated girly drinks in front of me. I’m up to 45 now.
I start to wonder if I should have ordered a decaffeinated drink by this time. I figure it should be smooth sailing now as I only have to walk five minutes to get to the office and no one can get in front of me now! I actually start to calm down a bit.
All it took to shatter that happy thought was two bendy busses. I would really like someone to explain to me why bus drivers drive over a sidewalk and stop when they know there’s no way they can get across? Those stop lines at the crosswalk are not there for artistic purposes for god’s sake you know. So now, I’m waiting to cross the street, there’s two bendy busses blocking my way across the road. They are so long, that I can’t see if its safe to cross by weaving in and out of the cars. Now I don’t blame the passengers for this, I blame the bus drivers. Still, I reckon there are at least 30 people on each bus, plus the cretin behind the wheel. So that’s 62 people in front of me. Oh, and add the previous 45 for a grand total 107. One hundred and seven goddamn people in my fucking way!
This year, I’m asking Santa for a cattle prod.
I squeeze my way off at the tube station. Three people in front of me at the ticket gate. Apparently, it comes as a complete surprise to one person that they need a ticket and start rummaging about their person for it. I count that person as doubly stupid, so that’s four people. One rude woman’s Oyster card doesn’t work at the gate beside me, so she backs up and pushes her way in front of me, not a word of apology. She’s a fat rude bitch, so I’ll count her as three. So now, that’s a total of 13 (are you counting?).
Now the fun of the tube. I stand aside when the doors open (like a good little commuter) and let the passengers off first. But before I can get on, let alone those still getting off, more people push their way on. That’s another 10 I reckon. Up to 23 now!
It’s the reverse next as I try to get off the train. Clearly the people waiting to get on don’t understand if you don’t let people off, you won’t be able to get on. I politely shout ‘get the hell of the way’ to a dozen brain-dead idiots. Thirty-five and counting.
I pop into Tesco Express to get some lunch. Its busy, so of course hardly any of the tills are open. I quickly deduce which line is likely to move the fastest and join the queue. A little old lady says “excuse me, I’ve only got one thing, do you mind if I go ahead”. That’s another one! “Of course not” I say, always being polite to little old ladies, but secretly think, well, soon it will be one LESS Londoner. I’m second from the front, then the spotty kid on the till says “I’m closing”. You’ve only bloody opened for god’s sake! I join another queue and mutter under my breath, “36, 37, 39, 40, 41”.
I’m already on edge, so decide what I need is a nice frothy cappuccino before I get to work. There’s a queue at Starbucks, but at least they have those little rope things. I take my place and plan my day in my mind. Great, I’m second from the front now…won’t be long. But wait, someone walks in, realises their work colleague is at the front of the line and says, oh, hey, can you get me three double half fat extra hot vanilla lattes for the girls? Bollocks! All I wanted was a regular cappuccino and now there are four overly complicated girly drinks in front of me. I’m up to 45 now.
I start to wonder if I should have ordered a decaffeinated drink by this time. I figure it should be smooth sailing now as I only have to walk five minutes to get to the office and no one can get in front of me now! I actually start to calm down a bit.
All it took to shatter that happy thought was two bendy busses. I would really like someone to explain to me why bus drivers drive over a sidewalk and stop when they know there’s no way they can get across? Those stop lines at the crosswalk are not there for artistic purposes for god’s sake you know. So now, I’m waiting to cross the street, there’s two bendy busses blocking my way across the road. They are so long, that I can’t see if its safe to cross by weaving in and out of the cars. Now I don’t blame the passengers for this, I blame the bus drivers. Still, I reckon there are at least 30 people on each bus, plus the cretin behind the wheel. So that’s 62 people in front of me. Oh, and add the previous 45 for a grand total 107. One hundred and seven goddamn people in my fucking way!
This year, I’m asking Santa for a cattle prod.
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