Sex change?

Posted on Nov 14, 2012 by headinablender

I was all snug and comfy on the train this morning, starting to doze off.

However, two or three stops into my journey, a guy and a girl sat down behind me reeking of cigarettes and talking complete bollocks at a volume suitable enough to keep me and most of the 12 carriage train from sleeping.

Great.

But this isn’t about how loud they were or how pungent their aroma was….no, this is about what made me smirk when we all got off the train.

It seemed the deep, gruff manly voice belonged to the woman, and the higher pitched soft girly voice actually belonged to the guy.

He was also wearing more foundation.

No comment.

Cod piece

Posted on Nov 12, 2012 by headinablender

You know those sort of smells that are both delicious and disgusting, depending on context?

Allow me to give an example.

I love the smell of fish and chips. It brings back so many fond memories and I can’t get enough of it.

And then there’s the open legs of the grossly overweight and sweaty man sat opposite me on the train….

Same smell.

Fitfat?

Posted on Nov 10, 2012 by headinablender

A really fat man perusing the clothing in a Nike store.

Anyone else see the irony?

In….out….

Posted on Nov 9, 2012 by headinablender

The difference between Darth Vader and the guy next to me on the train is that Darth Vader breathed quietly.

Which tube are you headed on?

Posted on Nov 8, 2012 by headinablender

The tube door shuts and clouts a woman across the head. She stumbles a bit and tries to style it out by acting unbothered.

Mildly amusing

The door opens again and smacks her a second time across the head in the other direction.

She almost drops her phone. Less styling.

Very amusing.

A guy takes this opportunity to jump on the train just as the driver announces we should ‘mind the closing doors’.

The doors close, twatting him across the head.

Downright hilarious.

Even the woman is smirking.

One sided conversation

Posted on Nov 7, 2012 by headinablender

I’m witnessing an awkward conversation between a man and a woman on the train who clearly know each other.

She’s talking non stop at great speed with masses of enthusiasm and no gaps for breathing. He just wants to sit in silence and maybe sleep. It’s so obvious as he’s just giving small unenthused recaps of her paragraphs, followed by brief moments of silence when he closes his eyes, only for her to launch into one again.

For example:

Her – “we’ve just replaced all the radiators in the house because Steve thinks it better that we have new ones ha ha ha ha ha and the new ones are much better but the old ones are quite vintage so Steve think we should sell them ha ha ha ha ha because we can make some extra money ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!”
Him – “yeah, you’ll make some money”

5 seconds of silence. He puts his head back and slowly closes his eyes.

Her – “there are quite a few babies in our family and Steve said its a nightmare ha ha ha ha well they’re not baby babies as a lot of them are a bit older now but you know what I mean ha ha ha ha ha but Steve and I aren’t going to have any yet as we like to relax at home and put our feet up ha ha ha ha”
Him – “yeah because you haven’t got any babies yet”

She’s maintaining eye contact with him at all times which, considering they’re sat side by side across the aisle, means he has to keep his head to the right.

It’s painful to watch.

How is she not seeing it? I mean, in the 20 minutes they’ve been on the train, he’s lost about 2 stone in weight and grown a beard.

Run away Steve. Far, far away.

Posh nosh

Posted on Nov 5, 2012 by headinablender

Picture the guy opposite me on the train. In his late 40’s, got the whole jeans and sensible jumper/shirt combo going on. Imagine a slimmer Richard Curtis and you’re pretty much there. He’s reading his iPad so I haven’t heard his voice, but I suspect there’s a private school tone to his voice. The sort of guy who has children called Tarquin and Felicity, and whose wife is probably shagging the gardener as I write this.

A posh twat basically.

So why am I telling you about him? No particular reason; he’s just grating on me a little bit by what he’s doing.

Firstly, he’s covered in biscuit crumbs, like a gibbon with a packet of digestives. I understand that they can be crumbly, but for god’s sake man, brush them off. But no, instead he continues to wear them whilst opting to frequently slurp his coffee like a child with a bowl of soup. I have nothing against slurping hot coffee as it’s hot and therefore a full on sip will burn the lips, but this guy’s been at it for ages. The coffee is cold…like his wife.

This is not helped by the fact the train has stopped due to a signalling failure and we’re all plunged in that uncomfortable, awkward silence usually reserved for full elevators. A whole carriage full to the brim with people and all you can hear is ‘cough’, ‘sniff’, ‘rustle rustle’ (newspapers)….oh, and ‘slurp’.

Tensions are high. I might flick his nose.

Speaking of which, here’s the other thing he’s doing that I’m not keen on. He’s picking his nose. Thats right, picking his nose!!

This isn’t simply scratching it, no; he’s really digging in and mining for the green stuff…all with his little finger. Mmm, nice.

He then starts to roll his findings between his little finger and his thumb. Mmm, nice.

Once he’s finished excavating, he begins to slowly, but purposefully, flick it. Failing at first (due to stickiness no doubt), but persevering nonetheless. It’s at this point he reverts to wiping it off, either on the seat or himself.

Hang on, are they actually biscuit crumbs?

Also, as I starting writing this he reached into his satchel (yes, satchel!) and produced a banana. He then proceeded to eat it which ordinarily wouldn’t be worthy of mention, but remember this; we’re on a deathly silent train that isn’t moving.

He begins to munch the banana (insert private school joke here), and as he chews he does it with his mouth open so he sounds like stirring stodgy porridge.

I may beat him to death with the skin.

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.

Licky licky…

Posted on Oct 24, 2012 by headinablender

The suited guy at the other table on the train keeps licking his lips.

And I don’t mean in a normal ‘stop them from being dry’ kind of way, but more like a ‘trying to be erotic, really going for it like a child with jam around its mouth and now the area between his bottom lip and chin are actually glistening in the fluorescent lights with gross man-dribble’ kind of way.

Disturbing.

The Turdminator

Posted on Oct 10, 2012 by headinablender

I’m sat on the train late at night and a guy has just got on and parked himself next to me.

He’s not a small guy. In fact, I’m now getting very intimate with the window as I’m pushed up against it.

But the weird thing about Shrek here is the way he’s breathing. Every breath has that strain like he’s bending out a fresh biscuit in his shorts. His massive, massive shorts.

Any minute now I’m expecting him to shout “finished!” followed by that warm pungent odour of fresh man manure. And I think to myself, whilst wedged up against the upholstery, that by the looks of him it won’t be a small chipolata affair.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not mocking obesity as I myself was a lot larger up until about a year ago, but logic tells me that the more food he puts in, the more poo he’ll put out. Fact.

So what if he really is squeezing one out? What if my suspicions are correct? Then what?

Shit.

Fagging smelly

Posted on Oct 10, 2012 by headinablender

The guy who’s just sat down opposite me on the train stinks of cigarettes.

What did he do, smoke a whole carton and then wash his clothes with the filters?

That’s it mate, chew a piece of gum…that’ll take away the smell.

(Rolls eyes)

You raaaaang?

Posted on Oct 1, 2012 by headinablender

The guy opposite me on the train has got the biggest face in the world. It’s proper huge, like Lurch from the Addams family, or Frankenstein’s monster!
If he headbutted me I’d have bruises from my head to my knees. It would be like running into a statue on Easter Island.

I also think his glasses are two plasma screens connected with scaffolding poles. Yep, I think I can make out the words Samsung and Sony on them.

At first I thought he had regular headphones in, but they’re full size speakers wedged into a lorry’s tyre inner tubes.

His neck must be knackered.