The accidental pugilist

Posted on Jan 31, 2014 by headinablender

Another normal* morning on London’s fine underground network system. The masses and I were stood on the platform awaiting the next oversized Pringles can to arrive and whisk us away.

Soon enough it arrived and the doors wheezed open as we all stood back to allow the shuffling morons off. We made sure to wear our customary scowls as they did so, before pushing and shoving onto the train; desperate to fill the void left in their wake.

As we crammed on I noticed that the woman in front of me had a shitload of space in front of her, but wasn’t moving into it. I’m not sure she realised the loud voice over the tannoy telling us all to “move down inside the carriage and use all available space” applied to her.

Those straddling the gap between the train and the station did.

I concluded that common sense should “move down inside the brain and use all available space”, but quickly dismissed that as futile and instead tried to push past her.

She wasn’t having any of it.

I’m 6 feet tall and this little twat was only about 5 feet tall, so it was inevitable I was going to succeed in pushing past her. This was a further indication that common sense eluded her.

Never before have the words “Mind The Gap” been so appropriate.

Despite her best efforts I shoved past her and lifted my arm to grab the handrail bolted into the ceiling. In the process of pushing past this brainless bint and raising my hand at the same time, I succeeded in punching a seated man in the side of the head.

Yes, that’s right; I punched a stranger.

This wasn’t a light brushing or a mild scuff; it was a full on, four knuckled, unrestrained smack across the side of his head. In fact, the force of it was strong enough to cause his head to jerk wildly to the side.

I looked down, ready to apologise profusely and lay blame with the stubborn bitch who should’ve been the one to punch him instead of me, when I saw that he hadn’t even looked up from his phone.

Nothing.

No reaction.

What the fuck?

He just sat there and continued playing Angry Birds as if he gets punched by strangers all the time.

“So how many was it today Dave?”

“Only 3. Although I did get a headbutt in the nuts from a midget”

I’m sure there’s a joke in here somewhere about a punchline.

*who am I kidding?

Don’t fanny about.

Posted on Jan 30, 2014 by headinablender

I always thought that decorating the vagina with crystals, diamonds and other assorted gems was a daft idea.

So is the name; ‘Vajazzle’.

It should’ve been called ‘Blinge’.

Cycle-path-ic tendencies

Posted on Jan 28, 2014 by headinablender

While walking to the office this morning, after the nightmare train journey into London, I heard a distinct “Fucking idiot!” from the other side of the busy road.

Of course my attention was drawn to it straight away and I saw the aftermath of a man who had clearly stepped out in front of a cyclist without looking.

The cyclist was stood there with his bike between his legs; front wheel on the floor and the back wheel up behind his back. It was clear he’d slammed on the brakes causing the bike to stop suddenly, and him a little less suddenly.

He’d then obviously performed that awkward stumbling forward like a man with 50lb testicles which had resulted in the bike riding up behind him.

The man who had stepped out in front of him had chosen to continue walking; ignoring the chaos and carnage he’d left behind.

The cyclist loudly shouted something at him as he walked away, but I didn’t hear much of what he said due to the noise of the traffic. I did pick out the words ‘prick’ and ‘fucking’, so I suspect it wasn’t, “please be careful when stepping out into the road, I’d hate for you to be injured”.

The cyclist hopped back onto his bike and cycled away, turning a corner out of view.

The man was going the same way as me, but on the other side of the road and before long we came to another junction in the road. It was at this point the cyclist came out from the side road, pulled up next to him and made SURE the man had clearly understood what a “complete fucking prick” he was.

He didn’t argue it.

He would’ve lost.

All for one…

Posted on Jan 28, 2014 by headinablender

This morning my train was delayed due to a “passenger being taken ill” on board.

My first clue that something wasn’t right was when a man entered from the adjoining carriage and woke me up by screaming “IS THERE A DOCTOR ON BOARD!??”

No reaction.

“PASS IT DOWN!”

No-one did.

He stood there for a few seconds, shot everyone a contemptuous look and headed back to his carriage.

Once I’d wiped away the drool from my mouth and the shoulder of the woman next to me, I looked out the window and saw we were just outside Clapham Junction, the busiest train station in the UK. I then looked at my watch and saw that we were running 40 minutes later than usual.

What the fuck?

I soon discovered it was something to do with signalling problems/electrical issues/leaves on the track/frost. [Delete as applicable…take your pick]

It was at this point, as the train slowly trundled into Clapham Junction (the busiest train station in the UK), that I noticed an unnatural silence in the carriage. At first I thought it might be due to concern for our fallen comrade in the other carriage, but I soon concluded it was because everyone was thinking the exact same thing as me….

“Don’t stop the train, don’t stop the train, don’t stop the train, don’t stop the train…..”

‘Crackle’

Oh no.

‘Fizz’

Oh shit.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your conductor speaking…”

Please no.

“…it appears the alarm has been pulled in one of the carriages…”

Ah, dammit!

“…owing to someone being taken ill on board.”

Here we go…

Now, I’ve ranted about the delays caused by those ‘taken ill’ before, but that was about the afflicted being on the platform, whereas this time it was someone actually on the train.

After multiple “apologies for the delay” and “awaiting a first-aider” announcements, it occurred to me….

Just take them off the train.

I mean, how ‘ill’ was the person if all we were waiting for was a first-aider? At no point did the announcements say we were awaiting a surgeon…or a mortician; so why not take them off the train and treat them in the cool, refreshing morning air?

Nope. As a lot of us feared, the inevitable happened.

The speakers crackled and fizzed to life again and the conductor suggested it might be a good idea we all leave the train and board another one. After all, there were plenty of trains heading into London as this was Clapham Junction; the busiest train station in the UK.

As you can imagine, this went down as well as a vegan’s fart in a broken elevator with the packed masses who were already very late for work.

Now, I’ve estimated a train carriage holds over 100 people and this was a 12 carriage beast packed tighter that Tom Jones’ trousers, so in effect we had over 1200 rats fleeing a sinking ship. That’s 1200 moaning, tutting, multi-directional shuffling zombies joining the crowds at the busiest train station in the UK; all heading towards platform 14 to join other equally packed trains full of scowling, miserable sods all unwilling to ‘move down the carriage using all available space’.

Amongst the crowds and mayhem I found a gap on platform 14 and, whilst silently congratulating myself, smugly waited for the next London-bound sardine tin. Soon enough it pulled up and I discovered why there had been a gap on the platform; I was stood equidistantly nowhere near the train doors.

I couldn’t have positioned myself better if I’d tried.

The doors opened and people started piling off the train. The rest of us glared at them as we watched the ever increasing space form behind them like a tin of cookies at a Weight-watchers meeting. I began sizing up my fellow commuters to see who I could take down if the need arose. The small Chinese woman, the man in front of me with the rucksack, the woman checking her make-up in a portable mirror; I reckon I could take them all with a well placed elbow here and a careful headbutt there.

As it turned out we all got on board.

Lucky bastards.

Mind you, some dude had my arse in his face all the way into London.

Lucky bastard.

Anyway, we arrived into Victoria almost an hour later than usual and everyone made a beeline for the underground station which, for some reason, wasn’t busy at all. It was actually a breeze getting through the barrier and I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why th……

Oh wait, it was 09:25am. Of course it was quieter; most people were actually AT work!

Oh well, at least the tube would be a nice end to this nightmare journey.

‘Crackle’

Oh no.

‘Fizz’

Oh shit.

“We apologise that, due to a signalling failure at Brixton, the Victoria line is subject to major delays in both directions”.

Maybe someone should call a first-aider.

Quickly.

Plane scary!

Posted on Jan 27, 2014 by headinablender

Today, whilst looking at my place of work on Google maps, I saw this.

Holy shit…..that looks low!

Let’s face it…

Posted on Jan 23, 2014 by headinablender

This morning I was stood opposite a girl on the tube whose eyebrows were drawn 150% thicker than they should’ve been, with far too much pink glossy lipstick that reflected enough light to blind everyone around her.

And she was orange.

Why do women think this is an attractive look?

Mmm, I can’t wait to run my hands through those big man brows whilst stained orange like a baby’s nappy and covered in pink sticky glossy shit….said no man, ever.

Laughable.

She looked like this.

“London Bridge is failing Dan, failing Dan, failing Dan….”

Posted on Jan 22, 2014 by headinablender

London Victoria underground station was closed tonight due to ‘someone being taken ill’.

Bollocks.

There’s no way someone said “I think I’ve got the flu coming on” and they shouted “Stop everything!”

I suspect it’s a more subtle version of “someone being liquidated by a train”.

If it’s not I can assure you that I, and about a thousand people frantically redirecting to other stations to escape the city like a frantic piss out of a pair of leaky rubber pants, will be hoping they feel better long enough to fall under the next train that’s “not stopping at Victoria”

It was utter bedlam tonight with agitated commuters strutting around directionless looking for an alternative way of getting home, and failing.

I made my way to London Bridge station as I knew I could get home from there and stood waiting for my platform to be announced.

It’s always been platform 5 whenever I’ve travelled from this station so I went through the barrier into the station, up the escalator and waited patiently by the platform entrance.

And waited.

It was 6 minutes until my train was due to leave and the platform still hadn’t been announced.

And then….

‘Platform 9’

What??

Where the fuck is platform 9?? There’s only platforms 1 to 6!

Cock!!

I ran down the escalator, back through the barriers, out of the station and saw there was another entrance which had platforms 7 and up.

Grrr!

There is nothing more infuriating than the possibility I was going to miss my train despite having been there for ages!

And, true to form, all the commuters had been switched to ‘slow, ambling, zombie fuckwad mode’; making my run that much more varied with slaloming, hurdles, chicanes, twists, turns and twats at every step.

I bolted through the masses, up the escalator, through the barriers to the platforms and ran (a concept unfamiliar to the cretins around me) down the platform alongside the train.

Ideally I wanted to be at the front of the train, but it was about to leave so I boarded halfway down and continued my journey inside.

It was at this point that some suited prick boarded the train at the next doorway and cut in front of me, only to then stand still.

Oops, my mistake, he WAS walking but at a speed which I could be forgiven for mistaking as ‘stationary’.

In fact, ‘Mr Stop’ here was so piss-achingly slow, I got off the train, walked down the platform and boarded ahead of him (on the same carriage) so I could continue at a pace that actually involved putting one foot in front of the other.

No sooner had I traversed another carriage than a woman did the exact same thing and cut in front of me; moving at sloth-like speed while she decided where to sit on this virtually empty train.

It amazes me how these people function day to day.

I sat down and took out my phone to begin writing this blog entry.

It took around 40 minutes to write (as autocorrect can be a bitch) and, as I sat thinking about how I could end it, I looked up and saw Mr Stop finally taking his seat.

Perfect.

VordSearchen

Posted on Jan 21, 2014 by headinablender

This morning whilst stood on the tube I found myself reading someone’s tablet over their shoulder.

I use the word ‘reading’ loosely as it was all in German.

It read something like this:

Kraften blitzke frausch mit aschven krau ka diftenschkraschen eins muttsen bitte lisch ja fluugan zwei genitals dreischen seib achtung zwolften schlassen cochsuckens banhofftenschlasse.

…

…
Yes, I saw that word in there too.

On a whole page of German words my eyes happened to gravitate to that one English noun nestled in there like a tick, which says a lot about me.

At least, I think it was all German. It could’ve been a wordsearch.

In which case, I won.

See word?

Posted on Jan 20, 2014 by headinablender

Tonight was a particularly interesting train journey home.

I was sitting there watching cartoons on my phone (Rockin’ Dungeons & Dragons retro stylee.) when i could feel the prescence of someone stood over me. I looked up and there was this guy, mid 50s, newspaper in hand, wearing glasses and a weird grin.

I removed my headphones.

‘Excuse me, i’m a bit blind and I cant read this article; only the headline”, he said holding open the newspaper at the sports section.

“Would you read it to me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?? Go bother someone else you weirdo!” (I wish I’d said).

“Of course” (I actually said).

He sat down and I began to read an article to him about tennis players Ana Ivanovic and one of the Williams sisters. I think it was Serena; it could’ve been the other guy.

He interrupted me.

“I dont know if youre into tennis or not…”

Im not.

“…but Ivanovic is very easy on the eye” (said the blind man)

I know. There was a picture of her with the article.

He probably didn’t know that.

“And Williams is a muscly butch nigger”

“Whoah, easy now!”, I said quickly and loudly; nervously aware we hadn’t long passed East Croydon.

I looked around the carriage for anyone who might think I somehow knew this blurry eyed twat.

He apologised, and then proceeded to tell me about how he’d been accused of racial abuse despite having been married to a white woman, a black woman and a half cast (mixed race actually) woman, even though this racial slur had been against an Irish person, which he”d found strange, and that he’d been bitten by a spider in spain over 6 years ago which had caused him to lose his sight, but it’s got better now, although his peripheral vision on his right side wasn’t great, and he used to be quite rich but his ‘friends’ sold all his stuff which he’d signed off on because it was when he’d lost his marbles and now he didn’t have money but that’s OK because money doesn’t really make a difference in life really.

Pause.

“So….shall I continue reading?”, I asked.

“Oh there’s more?”

I’m afraid so.

“Yes please”

I finished the article and handed the newspaper back to him in a ‘there you go, please go away now’ manner.

He didn’t leave.

Fuck.

He then told me about his love for chess, and that he was a member of the Crawley chess club. In fact he’d been playing tonight, although nowadays he can’t differentiate one piece from the other. At times he couldn’t remember mid match if he was white or black. It seems this is a reoccurring issue for bigot boy.

Thankfully his station came up and the racially dubious mole eyed weirdo THEN introduced himself and proceeded to get off the train.

Did I mention I boarded the train tonight, threw my arms in the air and screamed “COME TO ME, FREAKS AND WEIRDOS OF THE NIGHT!”?

No?

Maybe I should’ve opened with that.

I’m walking here!

Posted on Jan 14, 2014 by headinablender

Today on Oxford street in London I saw a man get beeped at by a black cab driver as he crossed a side road. The traffic lights had changed before the guy had finished crossing and the cabbie wanted to ensure the man knew it.

Believe me, from his two fingered salute I’m pretty sure he knew it.

Without uttering a word, these two strangers had engaged in the following conversation…

Cabbie – “Come on mate, I haven’t got all day here. The lights have changed and I need to turn left into that street, but you’re causing me to delay that turn by a further 4 seconds. So i’m going to beep my horn at you unnecessarily just so you and those around you are alerted to the fact that you’re taking too long!”

Man – “Fuck off”

I love London. I really, really do(n’t).

Miss taken identity

Posted on Jan 8, 2014 by headinablender

I’d been on the train about 20 minutes this morning when a guy got on and sat opposite me. He was short, dumpy with glasses and was wearing a big anorak. To be honest, he looked like Benny Hill.

I sat there for a while with my eyes closed in an attempt to get some sleep. However, I could feel a bat in the cave and desperately needed to pick my nose.

The train stopped again at another station and I open my eyes briefly to see if any women had joined Benny and I before donning my mining helmet.

No women. Just Benny watching something on his tablet.

In went the finger.

Oh yeah, that’s it; that’s what I’m talking about. Don’t run away. Where are you going? Come to daddy. Come on you little fucker….

I opened my eyes again for a second to see if there were any disgusted females around.

Nope, still just Benny.

On I went, like an 80’s ZX Spectrum classic prequel to Jet Set Willy.

(Nerd reference)

Once I was done I settled back in my seat to comfortably drift off to sleep.

After a few minutes I was woken by Benny and his rustling anorak, which was officially the loudest coat I’d ever heard. As he stood up to remove the deafening apparel I got a face full of boobs.

Boobs?

Holy shit, Benny was a Jenny!

He…sorry, she then sat back down and went back to his…sorry, her tablet. I decided it was probably best to close my eyes and continue to ‘sleep’.

In all fairness I could be forgiven for mistaking Jenny for a man. She had short man-hair, a stocky man-like build, unflattering jeans with big man style boots and, when the guard announced that our train was being terminated due to technical difficulties, an ability to let out a massive “Farkin’ ‘ell, what the fark’s that all abaat?” for all to hear.

I suppose it had to be loud to be heard over her coat.

She didn’t care.

She had balls.

Literally?

Posted on Jan 6, 2014 by headinablender

2014 is upon us and, so it seems, is some of the worst weather England has ever seen.

On this lovely Monday morning all the trains were either delayed or cancelled due to severe flooding from the deluge our fine country is relentlessly being twatted with.

There were buses being operated between certain parts of the route which meant the stations were getting very crowded, very quickly.

So, to hear a guy on the train tell some uninterested bastard on the phone that “there was literally a million people on the platform” left me to conclude that he was “literally an arse”.

Fat, hairy and spouting nothing but shit.

Happy new year everyone!