This is a sign that I give a crap

Yesterday I went to get my hair cut from the same place as before.

Fuck knows why.

Oh wait, convenience…that’s why.

As expected, they pointlessly took my phone number so they could enter my details in their computer, locate my account, print off a sheet of paper, pass it to my stylist so she could read it and confirm the style I wanted.

Yep, much quicker than just asking how I want my hair cut.


Anyway, that’s not the reason for today’s post.

Whilst driving home from the barber shop I passed a large plot of undeveloped land.  Well, I say ‘undeveloped land’, but when you consider that we live on the very outskirts of Las Vegas, the words ‘undeveloped land’ actually refers to about a million miles of desert.

This ‘undeveloped land’ had a sign that read:

No Trespassing.
No Dumping.

So I jumped the fence and took a shit.

Ryan Reynolds grin

Subway club

Imagine a Subway sandwich shop at lunchtime.  It was busy; heaving with people cramming themselves in for 6 or 12 inches of satisfaction.


The queue was practically out of the door and it was going to take a while until anyone was served.  This allowed plenty of time to peruse the brightly back-lit displays of delicious sandwiches on offer.

And yet there was some penis who, after queuing quietly for a lifetime, got to the front and THEN begin deciding what he wanted.

That’s it, start the decision process now dipshit.

Right now.

Not when you came in. Not while you were queuing for an eternity.


Now is the perfect time to start thinking about what you might possibly maybe want to have, you total and utter bell-end.

“Erm….I think I’ll have, er…hmm, I don’t really know.  What’s your sub of the day?”

“We don’t do the sub of the day anymore sir”.

“Oh right, er, ok.  Right….I’ll have…erm….hmm….what do I fancy?”

At this point I could take no more.  I stood up from my seat (I wasn’t even in the queue), turned him around, clubbed him across his stupid face with my sandwich shouting “too slow cockface!” while covering him in bits of masticated turkey ham and salad, before frogmarching him out of the shop to an enthusiastic, if not distinctly boney, round of applause from the emaciated starving masses in the queue.

If only.

subway penis bread

Another delayed journey…

This morning I had the joy of a lift to the train station as my girlfriend isn’t working today.
The downside with mentally allocating yourself more time in the morning is that you then tend to over-allocate which today resulted in us leaving much MUCH later than we should have. In fact, I was urging her to take most corners on two wheels.
She obliged.
And now I need a change of trousers.
Anyway, we screeched up outside the station and I jumped out of the car with true action movie prowess; running towards the platform at breakneck speed (or what my legs were capable of at 7:30am this morning) as my train was already there. 
Whilst I traversed the bridge over the train I thought to myself that I might even possibly maybe consider the theoretical likelihood that, if the train were to begin pulling away, I would jump off the bridge and onto its roof.  That way I could not only get into work on time, but also defy the laws of inertia by chasing and fighting some Bond-esque villain complete with limp, eye-patch and a briefcase with classified documents, microfilm and ballistic missile launch codes inside.
As it happens the train didn’t pull out, so I got on it with seconds to spare.  It seems those top secret codes will get into the enemy hands after all.
Ah, what did I care; I got a seat.
But hang on, something’s not right.  The train’s departure time had come and gone and we were still sat there.  It was at this point I was filled with dread as the voice of the driver came crackling over the speaker system; “Good morning ladies and gentlemen, I do apologise for the delay to our service this morning, but we’re being held at a red signal.”. 
No shit?  Really?  I hadn’t considered that.
He continued; “Due to a trackside fire at Preston Park there is now a backlog of trains and we’re awaiting platform space at Three Bridges station before we can continue”.
Ooh, now that’s a little more exciting.
We continued to sit there.
At this point I thought I heard uneven footsteps above me, but shrugged it off and decided to text work and let them know I was going to be late due to issues with the trains.  I must admit it was mostly so they knew I was actually awake and hadn’t overslept.
We then sat there for a further 20 minutes.
During this time I was within earshot of a conversation between two women who were talking at the volume intended to encourage other people to listen.  One of them was complaining that the driver should just use the ‘bypass track’ to miss out the offending station and get us on our way, whereas the other woman was saying that she’s sure they’re doing everything they can to get us on our way.
This pointless interaction went on for a while and reminded me of football pundits discussing a game they weren’t involved in, had no control of and ultimately speculating on what the players were actually thinking when in reality they should just shut the fuck up.
Soon enough the guard walked through the carriage and was stopped by Mrs Bypass-Track.  She asked why we couldn’t just ‘go around’ the other trains.  The guard tried to explain, through a forced smile that resembled a clown taking a shit, that all the platforms were in use and there were no tracks for us to use.  She still continued to ask why we couldn’t just bypass them, as if the concept of trains and tracks had eluded her.  The guard said they were doing everything they could to get us on our way which resulted in the smuggest look from the other woman who had said the exact same thing not 5 minutes earlier.
I knew there was nothing I could do so I sat back, relaxed and closed my eyes for an extended morning train snooze. 
I was woken briefly by what sounded like a faint shriek followed by a dull thud and a clatter resembling a briefcase hitting train tracks. 
I think the lights flickering slightly too, but then the train started moving so I shrugged it off, closed my eyes again and drifted off.

Fantasy Vs. Reality – Part 1

I came across a realisation this morning as I walked to the train station; that more often that not we are confused between fantasy and reality. In fact, I’m so convinced of this that I’m going to start a section entitled “Fantasy Vs. Reality”…of which this is part 1.

Allow me to explain.

Tonight I’m off to a friend’s house for the evening to play video games and probably gorge myself on dough bin lids covered in churned milk, plants and processed animal flesh…or ‘pizza’ as they’re better known. It’s going to be a proper old school video games night; you know…actually sat side by side on a sofa, rather than over the interweb. As a result I have to pack an overnight bag as I’m, well, staying overnight (duh!).

But I digress…

So this morning I walked to the station with a mini suitcase on wheels (I know it’s only for one night, but i’m not a tart; I had a complete change of clothes for work tomorrow, plus trainers, plus toiletries, plus Xbox games and a controller); rumbling along the road at 7am like a small Boeing 747…so I’m sure I didn’t wake anyone who had their bedroom windows open. I then got to thinking about negotiating the London Underground with my case.

All the people I’ve seen in the past with cases get on my tits because they just have no spatial awareness and they drag their cases behind them like horny dogs on very long leashes trying to take out the legs of anyone in the vicinity with the vain hope of buggering those who fall. Whatever happens, I’m not going to be what the train station posters call a “Wheelie Wally’…(or ‘Wheelie Wanker’ as I like to affectionately call them).

Then I made it to the station, stood on the platform and patiently waited for my train. It soon arrived and Fido and I boarded without issue.

Then I heard it…

Clip clop clip clop clip clop…

…the door light on the train was flashing and the beeping had begun to indicate the doors were about to slide shut…


…the doors began to close…

…CLIP CLOP CLIP -silence-

A woman appeared from nowhere! She was small, unassuming, and was on board the train before the doors had finished closing, complete with big coat and quite a large rucksack. How the hell did she do that? She didn’t even touch the sides! (Words than can reduce a man to tears under alternative circumstances by the way)


She calmly scoped the carriage for a seat, found one and sat down. She didn’t even look up, she didn’t seem harassed or flustered in any way like it happens all the time; she’s like some kind of anoraked ninja.

Indiana Jones would’ve been proud.

I found a seat, sat down (otherwise I’d just be a weird guy who finds seats) and thought about the situations with my case and the slippery woman.

Here are the fantasy and reality of each.

You strut through the station or terminal with your wheeled case behind you, proudly displaying it like a slightly over smug flight attendant.

Fantasy: Everyone looks at you with both wonder and jealousy as they’re curious of where You’re going and who you’re seeing. Let the man through…he has a case!

Reality: Everyone is avoiding you like the plague because you’re going to get under everyone’s feet. What kind of penis takes a fully packed case onto the tube in rush hour? I hope I don’t get stuck standing next to you. Idiot.

Your train is pulling in so you make a run for it. You clatter along the platform like a deranged moose and, as you hear the beeping of the closing doors, jump on the train at the first available opportunity. You make it.

Fantasy: You not only made it on board, but you didn’t even get bumped by the doors, resulting in a flawless finish. You’re not out of breath at all and others were there to witness your awesome Hollywood entrance. No need to look around for looks of admiration and awe, you already know they’re there. Just sit down and be confident in the knowledge that you’ll be talked about around campfires for years to come.

Reality: Most people either didn’t notice or don’t care. The rest who saw you just think you’re a lucky sod because you shouldn’t have been lazy in the first place and been at the station on time, like they all were. In fact, a few if them wished you’d missed the train, just to teach you a lesson. They’re now just pissed off you didn’t.

And they know you know it…because you’re avoiding eye contact.

Yeah, that’s it, go and sit down you twat.