The Farce is strong with this one.

Posted on Oct 1, 2017 by headinablender

Today at work, the subject of Star Wars came up.

Actually, every day at work and at home and at the supermarket and in the car and sat on the toilet pushing out a Jar Jar, the subject of Star Wars comes up.

Why? Because I fucking LOVE Star Wars.

The Scruffy Nerf Herder has a point.

Anyway, today’s Star Wars conversation started when I saw a trailer for the new Blade Runner 2049 trailer (Squeeeeeee!). I asked my work colleagues if they’re as pant-wettingly excited to see it as I am.

This question was met with was a lot of blank expressions.

My heart sank.

“Wait, who here has seen the original Blade Runner?”, I asked, with slight desperation in my voice.

Only one hand went up.

One.

It was at this point that the girl who sits next to me – let’s call her Cluelessa – said, “There’s one reason why I want to see that movie”.

I sighed. “It’s because of Ryan Gosling isn’t it?”

She beamed excitedly, “Of course!”

I held my shit together and smiled. “So let me get this straight”, I said incredulously, “You went with Ryan Gosling and not Harrison Ford?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“But he’s a legend!”. (Harrison, not Ryan)

She paused for a moment as she redirected brain power from her mouth to her brain, “I liked him in Air Force One” she replied proudly.

I had to take a moment to compose myself and remember it’s not deemed socially acceptable to choke the shit out of a co-worker.

For some reason it’s frowned upon.

“So, let me understand this right….you didn’t go with Indiana Jones or Han Solo….instead you went with ‘Air Force One’?”

Thus began the conversation about the cultural phenomenon that is Star Wars^[1]

It soon became evident that most of the people I work with haven’t actually seen Star Wars, unless it was the one with the “racing thingy” (Pod Race) or “Anakin” (probably a prequel).

I wanted to scream like a Wookie.

The conversation, as dumbfounding as it was, came to a head when Cluelessa asked, “Wait, Darth Vader….is that Star Wars?”

I had to take a moment.

Trembling with rage, I picked up the concrete paperweight on my desk and pushed it towards her face.

“That’s no moon”

“Pop quiz; what’s this?”

She beamed blankly as she looked at it, then at me, then back at the paperweight.

She didn’t know the answer.

SHE DIDN’T KNOW THE ANSWER!

“It’s the Death Star!”, I said, holding back tears and throat punches.

“OK, here’s another question for you”, I said with a new hope (see what I did there?), “What do Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker have in common?”.

There was a long pause.

In fact, there shouldn’t have even been a short pause.

It went very quiet and I could hear my own heart breaking.

One of the other girls piped up, “Isn’t he, like, his dad or something?”

Oh my god!

Then Cluelessa said, “Wait, isn’t Anakin, Luke? Wait, no….hold on, so who is Luke?”

Unbelievable.

But, as I write this from prison, I have to say it has become evident over the last few years that Star Wars is slowly slipping off the radar with the ‘young folk’ of today. It’s for this reason that I am so thankful that Disney now own the rights to a galaxy far, far away. All the time there is love for the franchise – and tons of cash coming in – Disney will continue to bring Star Wars to the big screen.

Despite one of the girls saying they’ve only seen ‘The Force Awakens’ (eye twitch), it is still keeping the legacy alive….and ‘The Force Awakens’ is still a great film even though its plot is effectively ‘A New Hope’, but without enough R2D2.

I live and breathe Star Wars. I love everything about it^[2] and it breaks my heart to think that one day, in the dystopian future of…say…2049, it’s possible that no-one will look at Rick Deckard and say “Hey, you look a lot like Han Solo”.

[1] Not including the prequels.

[2] Except Jar Jar Binks^[3] and any unnecessary or comedic CGI special effects added to the original trilogy.

[3] Especially Jar Jar Binks!

You want beef?

Posted on Feb 19, 2017 by headinablender

It’s Sunday and I’m at work. It’s actually my scheduled day to work, so this isn’t a ranty post about having to work weekends and the world can lick my sweaty bumhole.

Sorry.

Instead, this is a post about the baffling and idiotic mindset of one of my friends and colleagues who is also here today.

So, for context, we have a large bistro on campus here at work which offers all sorts of foods, drinks and dubious stains and spills on the floor. Usually, when I take my lunch, I head down to the bistro and then text my colleague (let’s call her Numpty) and let her know what free soups they have on offer that day. She then replies and lets me know which she’d like and I take one back to her.

I’m simply awesome like that.

Well, being a Sunday, there was only one choice of soup instead of the usual three. Today’s soup was beef chilli. Yes, I know it’s not technically a soup, but it resembles a soup more than a barrel of squashed frogs.

Actually, squashed frog soup sounds pretty good.

Anyway, when I got down there I sent her a text. In fact, here is the ACTUAL conversation we had (my comments are in yellow).

There’s a lot of love between us

I deserved it.

But then again, so did she. I mean, all she had to do was type ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. In fact a simple ‘Y’ or ‘N’ would have sufficed.

This is why she’s a twat.

Give me strength…

Posted on Feb 10, 2017 by headinablender

Yesterday I went to the gym after work, despite being tired after a long…fucking…day.

I walked up to the reception desk and handed over my membership card to the girl standing behind it (the desk, not my card).

Me: “Here you go“.

She took my card, looked at it for a second.

Girl: “Thank you Daniel“.

Bit weird, but OK.

Me: “Can I have a towel please?”

Girl: “Sure“.

She handed me a towel.

Me: “Thanks“.

Girl: “I love your energy! Have a great workout”

My energy?

All I did was ask for a towel and then thanked her for handing me that towel. It’s not like I bounded in, frisbee’d my membership card at her and bellowed: “Well hello there my good woman! May I have a towel for today’s exertions!!???”

Still, I mustered enough energy for an eye roll.

She deserved it.

ShoSho-wing too much

Posted on Sep 27, 2016 by headinablender

This weekend my wife and I took a road trip to northern Nevada. It was awesome and NOT the basis of today’s blog…don’t worry. This isn’t a travel blog after all; I only write about shit that either A) happens to me, B) pisses me off, or C) has a combination of A and B.

There are a lot of C’s in this blog, I can tell you.

(insert smirky face here)

Anyway, back to my reason for today’s post. On the way back from the land of fucking nothing for miles and miles, we detoured to a natural warm spring in Duckwater.

This warm spring has been referred to as the largest in the United States and is located on land owned by the Shoshone Indian tribe.

In essence, this place is in the middle of fucking NOWHERE.

After turning off the main highway, it was another million miles along a road that I can only describe as the beginning of almost every horror movie ever. This was followed by a gravel ‘road’ that eventually led to the warm springs and the need for repair to the underside of your car.

We didn’t see another vehicle in either direction for almost an hour. Not one. I was genuinely fucking scared.

Here are the warm springs on Google maps.

Zoom out. Seriously, do it.

Do you see just how much ‘fuck all’ there is around?

I wasn’t joking when I say we saw NO-ONE!

As we parked up in the completely desolate parking lot (or ‘area of gravel’), another car suddenly pulled up next to us. Wait, what? Where did they come from?

Out of the car jumped two young ladies who, it soon became abundantly clear, were more than just friends. I was a little bit disappointed at their arrival because I was looking forward to romantically dipping in the warm spring with my wife. It wasn’t a huge ask, considering the fact it was in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and had taken us an hour and a half out of our way, but that’s fine. No, really, it’s FINE!

I shot my wife a look that said “For fuck’s sake!” while our new friends chattered to each other as they merrily collected their shit from their car and joyfully trotted to the water’s edge.

Oh well, it was what it was. To be honest, it was still lovely. My wife and I had a bit of a swim, joined by our friends (who aren’t just friends) and we even had a bit of a laugh and joke with them. I couldn’t really be a complete dick about them being there too because, after all, we were also interrupting their romantic warm spring dip.

After half an hour or so my wife and I decided to get out as we had a 4 hour drive back to Vegas. We picked up our stuff by the side of the springs and walked back to the car, dripping sacred Shoshone water all over sacred Shoshone land. When we got to the car I looked around and saw nothing was coming from miles around; no glint of vehicle metal on the horizon and no dust clouds in their wake. I glanced back at the springs and our new friends were still swimming and chatting in the water.

“I’m going to change back into my clothes here”, I said to my wife, as I couldn’t be arsed to traipse back to the restroom (wooden hut) to change out of my wet swim shorts.

My wife looked around and agreed it made sense. Besides, I could hide behind the car door, away from the prying eyes of two young women who really had no interest in my penis anyway.

Behind me was just desert as far as the eye could see. I was good to go.

So I gripped the elastic waistband and dropped my shorts to the ground in one rapid movement. This was no easy feat considering they were soaked through and sticking to me like a Jewish mother.

It was quite nice to feel the cool Nevadan breeze tickle my untickled areas.

As I stood up, miraculously one of the girls was out of the water rummaging through their belongings, 10 feet away from my manhood swinging¹ freely in the breeze! I dropped to a half squat position behind the car door quicker than if I’d been swiftly kicked in the nuts. I was almost uppercutted by the door.

Is uppercutted a word? Meh, it’ll do.

I couldn’t believe this girl had decided that NOW was the time she needed her phone, cigarettes, rubber fist or whatever.

My wife was in bits with laughter.

I decided to sit inside the car and remove the rest of my shorts and in no time I was completely naked, in the middle of sacred Shoshone Indian country.

At this point my wife said, though stifled laughter “Oh, I don’t believe it.”

“What?”, I barked?

She pointed behind me and attempted some words that failed her. I turned and looked through the car windows and, sure enough, there was another car trundling down the gravel road towards us.

They were greeted by me, sat there, door open, naked and wet.

Enjoy your swim.

¹ Who am I kidding?

The day I tongue-tied a lesbian.

Posted on Sep 22, 2016 by headinablender

The girl who sits behind me at work is gay. Is that a relevant or appropriate start to this post? You betcha. Let’s call her Cholula.

So, a few of us were talking about pets, particularly dogs and cats, and Cholula said she wanted a dog. However, she didn’t want anything too vicious as she has a cat.

At this moment her phone rang. As she went to pick up the phone she said, “I don’t want anything eating my cat”.

I quickly replied with, “That’s not what she used to say in her single days.”

She laughed, gagged, fucked up her phone greeting and had to apologise to the caller.

Pardon my French…er, I mean American.

Posted on Aug 18, 2016 by headinablender

Last week I was walking behind an American woman who was holding hands with her young daughter and talking to two young French girls. She was asking them about France and how to say certain words in French.

As I got closer I heard:

“So, how do ya’ll say ‘Camden‘ in French?”

There was a pause as the two girls looked at each other bemused, and then turned slowly back to the woman.

One of them replied:

“Er, Camden eez ze name of a market in London, no?”

Woman “Uh huh” said the woman, not getting it; “So how do y’all say it in French?”

There was another pause as the French girl tried to decipher if there was something she missed, or a meaning she hadn’t considered…or if it was simply a stupid fucking question.

Finally she looked back at the woman and gave the only answer she possibly could.

“Camden”

The French have another word that’s the same as English.

Imbécile.

Don’t ask…

Posted on Jan 10, 2016 by headinablender

My wife is ill.

Living in America I should really say ‘my wife is sick’, but I can’t use that sentence without wanting to add ‘and twisted’ on the end.

So….my wife is ill.

Very ill actually.

She has spent most of the day – and last night – coughing, sneezing, throwing up and sporting a high temperature. What’s even worse is the fact I had to cancel our 6:20pm showing of Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

It’s such an emotional time.

Unfortunately I couldn’t cancel the tickets online with the same ease I booked them, so I had to put on outside clothing and drive to the cinema.

Sorry, ‘Movie Theatre’.

Sorry, ‘Movie Theater‘

(rolls eyes)

After a 35 minute drive I arrived at the cinema and headed into the noisy, bustling foyer. I navigated the slow, shuffling popcorn munching morons and made a beeline for the box office desk.

The young girl behind the (bulletproof?) glass called me over and I pushed my pre-printed ticket under the glass towards her.

“I need to cancel these tickets; my wife is sick (and twisted) and so we can’t make the 6:30 showing”.

She smiled, took my tickets and proceeded to scan stuff and type things on her tiny little keyboard.

After a few seconds she said, “So I have to ask, where are you from?”

Did you have to ask?

“From Vegas, born and bred” I replied, with a smile.

She looked at me blankly, an emotion came across her face (ooer!) which I can only describe as bemusement. No, wait….confusion; the word is confusion.

I decided to help her out.

“Just kidding, I’m originally from the UK”.

She smiled (out of relief mostly) and what followed were the usual questions of “How do you like it here?” and “How is it different from the UK?” etc.

After a minute or so of “I don’t miss the clouds and rain” and “Well, the TV over here sucks” she smiled again at me and slipped me my refund receipt.

Before I could thank her and leave, she hit me with this one…

“Let me ask you one more question; since you’ve been here what stereotype of Americans have you found not to be true?”

Wow, this was an interesting one. Where do I start?

Actually, where DO I start? I couldn’t think of a single stereotype off the top of my head and here I had this young girl smiling at me, expecting an answer…..an honest answer.

Naturally.

So I went with the most common stereotype; the one that is synonymous with Americans, known the world over.

“Well, there’s the stereotype that Americans are stupid…” I began.

Her face dropped.

The foyer fell silent.

I felt like that out of town stranger who had walked into a saloon in the Old West. Even the popcorn had stopped mid-pop.

She looked mortified and started spouting some bollocks about the revolutionary war and the fact that it was actually the English fighting the English or something. I tuned out to be honest.

Hey, she asked the question. Be prepared for the answer. Well, half the answer in this case.

Before I could say that I found that stereotype to be (mostly) untrue, she looked behind me and said “Next please”.

Oh dear. Touch a nerve did I?

As I got in my car I smiled to myself as I nearly said, ‘Americans are very easily offended’.

Cunt.

See?

Wait, she DID ask for an American stereotype that I had found not to be true…right?

Right?

Lashing out

Posted on Feb 26, 2015 by headinablender

One of the girls I work with always wears fake lashes. It looks like her eyes are wearing baseball caps.

The other day I dared her to come to work not wearing them, so today she’s done exactly that.

She looks…well…no different, actually.

Her natural lashes (which I believe I am saving from extinction) are long, so she looks just great without those massive canopies keeping her face shaded from the sun.

Goodbye fake tan.

Then she came out with this gem:

“I do feel like I’ve got bigger eyes today”.

Brilliant.

However, this isn’t the first time she’s come out with a random statement. In fact, one of my friends in the office who sits next to her is compiling a book of them.

Here is a sample of what he has so far.

“I have pissed myself before; I was under the influence”

“Why can’t I work from home? I couldn’t work from home because I wouldn’t work!

“Is the Caribbean in Thailand?” (We work in travel)

“What would 50% of the holiday cost be? Oh yeah, half!”

“What class are they flying? Pre minimum Economy?”

Her – “Are you still with the mum?”

Customer – “No, I’m not”

Her – “Aww, ok; are they still her kids though?”

“I actually think I’m in a music video today”

“I can’t wait to shave”

“When you say ‘Afternoon’, how weird is that?”

“Don’t you think oranges are weird? Like, the way they grow. The world is a wonderful place Billy”

“It’s the one bedroom apartment equilavent….equilavent…..EQUILAVENT!”

“About a month ago I shit myself. It was so annoying because it was just after a shower.”

“O.M.G., I think I’m getting fingered by a ghost!”

How can I compete with this comedy gold?

The interesting thing to note is that this girl is actually quite smart. She’s quick to learn and very inquisitive…she’s just a bit of a ditzy twat at times.

Bless her.

Literally figurative

Posted on Jan 6, 2015 by headinablender

One of the girls at work is feeling a little under the weather today. She has come out with some choice comments [1].

Firstly we had:

“What is sneezing, exactly?”

This was later followed up with:

“D’you know what? After this cold is gone, I’m really going to appreciate my nose”

Then we got:

“D’you know what I can’t wait to do tonight? Have a shower and blow my nose in my hands”

But the worst had to be:

“Oh my god, I feel like shit. I am literally dying”

Bad use of grammar always grits my shit.

She wasn’t literally dying. Not unless you count the fact that, technically, we’re all dying from the moment we’re born.

But, let’s be honest, she didn’t mean it like that

No, she was saying that her grim demise was fast approaching solely because of her cold.

This misuse of the word ‘literally’ really bothered me because it simply wasn’t true.

So I stabbed her.

[1] Bollocks

Commuting is a blast

Posted on Aug 26, 2014 by headinablender

This morning, as my wife and I squeezed onto the London Underground train, we got separated into different parts of the carriage. My wife ended up halfway down the carriage whereas I ended up near the door literally face to face with a tall blonde girl.

She wasn’t un-pretty (I’m assuming; she was hidden behind some heavily applied make-up) and was stood there not making eye contact with anyone as she pouted and posed among the newspapers and armpits.

In my single days I may have given her a second look, but since meeting my wife every one else comes a distant second. Although cheesy, this is absolutely true and has nothing to do with the fact my wife was:

a) five feet away and
b) reads my blog.

Anyway (moving on swiftly), the train began to pull out of the station and a gentle breeze came through the open window in the door between the carriages. The girl took this opportunity to turn her head to face the window so the wind rushed through her hair as she continued to pose and pout.

It was like watching a Michael Jackson video.

She was loving it.

However, as the train picked up speed, the breeze became everything but gentle. After a few seconds it had reached Hurricane proportions and her pouting was quickly replaced with her squinting eyes and flapping lips like a dog with its head out of a car window at 70 miles per hour.

More amusingly was her hair violently whipping and slapping her in the face, sticking to her make-up and going in her mouth.

“Hwaarrgh!” *Cough cough* “Gaaaak!”

Attractive.

After a couple of minutes the train slowed down for the next station and she finally managed to compose herself, pulling fistfuls of hair from her throat and gagging. As she did this she looked at me and smiled with embarrassment.

“That didn’t go as you expected it to eh?” I said, looking at the make-up that had now slid back to her ears.

“Not really” she wheezed, “I was actually worried for anyone behind me getting hit with my hair!”

“It’s ok” I said, “I think the guy behind you enjoyed it”.

She laughed awkwardly.

“Shame it wasn’t in slow motion.” I continued.

“Like a shampoo advert”, she laughed.

Erm, no.

It was more like a ferret being hit in the face with a tumbleweed.

Game shame on a train

Posted on Jun 26, 2014 by headinablender

Today I downloaded a very nerdy documentary on the making of the videogame ‘Fallout 3’.

My wife is at the gym tonight and will be commuting home later so, being only 40 minutes in length, it was perfect as something to watch on my train journey home tonight.

As I settled in and began watching it a young cute girl sat next to me on the train.

Of course she did.

Nothing screams “39 year old virgin with no ability to get a woman sat right here!” more than this.

Nothing.

Even my tattoos and wedding ring won’t rescue me this time…

Unique…just like everyone else.

Posted on Apr 14, 2014 by headinablender

At the station this evening I saw a girl wearing a T-shirt that read:

‘One And Only’

Yes, I’m sure it was the only t-shirt that company printed.

Knucklehead

Posted on Dec 20, 2013 by headinablender

This morning on the tube I noticed a young girl wearing one of those rings that covers two fingers like a fashionable knuckle duster.

This piece of weaponised jewellery was gold. Well, I say ‘gold’…it was gold coloured plastic in the shape of the word ‘Bad’.

And it really was.

Not Helpful Service

Posted on Nov 14, 2013 by headinablender

Girl – “Hello, Surgery?” (Went up at the end of the statement so it sounded like a question)

Me – “Er, hi. Is this the Medical Centre?”

Girl – “Mmm hmm”.

Me – “Oh hello, I’m calling because I need to register a new patient with you”.

Girl – “Ok”.

(Awkward silence)

Me – “Erm, it’s for my wife. She’s American and she’s now resident in the UK, so the next step is to get her registered with a doctor in case she ever gets ill”.

(Long silence)

Girl – “Right. Ok. She just needs to come in, fill in some forms and bring photo identification and proof of address; like a utility bill. Ok?”

Me – “Great, thanks. But she’s from America and has only been here a month so she won’t have a utility bill in her name”.

Girl – “She lives in America?”

Me – “No, she lives here now”.

Girl – “Is she here, like, forever?”

Me – “Well, certainly for the next three years”

Girl – “So she isn’t leaving soon?”

Me – “I certainly hope not! Ha ha!”

(No reaction. Nothing. A tumbleweed rolls by)

Me – “No, she has her visa now which means she’s a UK resident. She just needs to be registered with a doctor and seeing as I’m registered with you, it makes sense she is too”.

Girl – “Ok. Well she just needs to come in to fill out some forms and we’ll sort it from there”.

Me – “Great. Now, she won’t have a utility bill in her name, but she did recently receive a letter confirming her National Insurance number which has her name and address on it. Will that do?”

Girl – “Her ‘what’ number?”

Me – “Her National Insurance number”.

Girl – “What’s that?”

(You’ve got to be joking!)

Me – “It’s the number that is allocated to you so that contributions from your salary are made to the National Health Service for things like, you know, hospital treatment and DOCTORS. That’s why I’m registering her now”.

Girl – “Oh, right. Ok. So yeah, get her to come in”.

Me – “Ok, but will that letter be enough or should I get her to bring in a utility bill with my name on it to prove the address? Obviously we have the same surname”.

Girl – “Er….let me just check”.

(Oh hold. For ages)

Girl – “Hello?”

Me – “Hi”.

Girl – “Does she hold a UK passport?”

Me – “No, she’s American. It’s an American passport”.

Girl – “So it’s not a British one?”

Me – “No”.

Girl – “Oh right”.

Me – “I mean, she’s here on a visa so she’s now resident in the UK, so it’s fine. How do you usually register a patient?”

Girl – “Er, I’m not sure; hold the line”.

(On hold again)

Girl – “Hello?”

Me – “Hi”.

Girl – “Can I call you back? I just need to check on this and call you back”.

Me – “Sure”.

I’m convinced I’ve literally just had this conversation with a bored patient in the doctor’s waiting room who answered the phone because the receptionist was off somewhere having a colossal shit.

Whoreditioning for a part.

Posted on May 21, 2013 by headinablender

I’m sitting on the train watching Californication (which is awesome by the way), desperately trying to drown out the two cocks sat next to me talking bollocks.

Suddenly two young, attractive women enter the carriage and take the last two seats; one of which is directly opposite me.

Result.

Or so I thought.

They’re pissed as fuck and the one opposite me is chewing her gum so loudly it sounds like a long lipped bloodhound having a drink.

And every sentence has the word “like” in it at least, like, three times.

They’re talking about auditioning for acting roles and the importance of “losing oneself in, like, a really, like, really juicy role that you can, like, lose yourself in”

I’m tempted to tell them that sucking the producer’s cock can really help.

Mind you, she IS chewing a lot of gum.

Fat headed statement

Posted on Nov 30, 2012 by headinablender

Sorry, just heard the dumbest comment from a girl on the train talking to her boyfriend about a diet she’s going to go on in which you eat a lot of fat.

Him – “you eat a lot of fat?”
Her – “yeah, apparently it’s really good for you because if you eat a lot of fat your body won’t start eating away at your own fat”.

Oh my good god. What a total twat.

Had to share.

Carriage chav

Posted on Nov 16, 2012 by headinablender

A proper fight kicked off on the train between a young 20 something girl and some guy. She was shouting abuse the likes of which would offend anyone with a sensitive disposition.

She then angrily stomped down the carriage towards the end I was sat at and I suddenly realised, there was an empty seat next to me! Oh shit!!

She continued with “you shut the fuck up bruv, you shut up yeah!?” and classics like “you little prick! That’s what you are, a little prick!!”

She got closer….her massive hoop earrings clattering against her numerous necklaces.

Shit shit shit.

Then suddenly she disappeared into a spare seat 3 rows in front of me, still shouting “fucking dickhead”, and “go back to where you got those scars you prick!”, although most of it is to herself as the guy had gone.

I felt sorry for the little timid woman she’d sat next to, whose eyes were firmly fixed, unblinking, to her kindle.

She then picked up her phone to call, who us sniggering commuters can assume was, her ‘home girl’

Here are a few choices from this side of her phone conversation (In a proper rudegirl gangsta girl stylee…at full volume)

“I should’ve put my heels to his knees.”

“Acting like some princess; what a c**t”

“Do you still think of me when you’re on the toilet?”

“He’s all up in my face like ‘oh you pushed me!’ like some chief yeah!”

“I ain’t playin’ man, I ain’t playin’!”

There were more but she was spouting them at such a speed in her gravelly ’40 a day’ voice that I couldn’t catch them all.

Now she’s sat there singing along to her iPod. Yep, singing. And still swearing under her breath.

I think the kindle woman was supposed to get off at the last stop.

Bloody commute…

Posted on Oct 31, 2012 by headinablender

Whilst riding the tube this evening I was witness to something you don’t see often; a man covered in blood.

Now allow me to quantify that by pointing out that it’s Halloween. Even so, it’s still a little unnerving when the guy who gets on the tube next to you is, indeed, covered in blood.

Did I mention he was covered in blood? Well he was, y’know, covered in blood.

So there we were stood side by side on the packed train as it slowly departed the station. It was then I noticed the reactions of the other people crammed in with our crimson pal, or rather, the lack of them.

Here he stood, covered in the red stuff and no one even bats an eyelid (no pun intended). I guess they all had the same thought as me which was “this guy must have had some sort of Halloween dress up thingy at work today, good for him”.

This lack of blind terror, screaming and uncontrollable sobbing did get me thinking. What if this guy was REALLY covered in REAL blood? What a perfect cover. He seemed so calm and unassuming, but then again aren’t they the ones we should be careful of?

I edged away from him slightly.

Some of the commuters were desperately trying to stare without being too obvious as he was, without question, covered in blood. What fascinated me the most was the way they’d quickly look elsewhere when he made eye contact. I mean, it’s rude to stare, right? And we don’t want to upset the blood soaked stranger do we kids?

Then I wondered; what if today had been a regular day? What if it hadn’t been halloween? Would we have all acted differently? I would’ve certainly filled my trousers with all kinds of nasty, but what about everyone else? Maybe one day I’ll just dress as a zombie and stand on the train at rush hour, dribbling and groaning.

Although I suspect I won’t need to stand with all the empty seats.

But the most amusing, and yet appropriate, reaction was when the train pulled into our destination. There, stood on the platform, was a small oriental girl waiting for the train. She’d obviously positioned herself so that she would be right in front of the sliding doors when they opened.

Perfect.

We all started piling off the train and I was directly behind Mr Bloody so I had a front row seat for what happened next.

As we stepped off the train, the oriental girl looked up and made a face that simply said “what the fucking shit?!?”, complete with wide eyes and even wider mouth. This was accompanied by a sudden and violent sidestep which was clearly a kneejerk reaction not dissimilar to ducking when a pigeon flies at your face.

(Although seeing a pigeon hit someone full on in the face is just a beautiful thing; at least for the spectator and not the person picking beak, shit and feathers out of their mouth)

Her reaction was absolutely priceless. I can still picture it now and I cant stop smiling; It was so bloody funny.

Pun intended.