Ok, so after a good night’s sleep, today I’m confronted with tube sardine syndrome. This is a painful condition for those who prefer to sit/nap on the way to work rather than spend an hour with their face in someone’s armpit/arse. So then I get to Liverpool Street and I’m buffeted on all sides by people racing for trains: fat city financiers, thin city financiers, dolled up chantelle esque admin girls and wandering German tourists. Big shouldered, blank faces and swinging laptop bags. Everyone’s in a big hurry and I’m thinking: “well all this rushing about is all well and good, but if you get there and you’re still a cunt, what’s the point anyway?”
Once again the Big Poppa has felt it prudent to add his 2 pence worth about the hustle and bustle of London’s evil Streets and Travel. Being a frequent London commuter I also have to deal with the horrible Sardine can styled travel that we are provided by London Transport. I feel that the journey could be made slightly more bearable if we weren’t stuck on the train with the aforementioned shower of pricks that unfortunately are always travelling with us in our uncomfort. Once again the previos days conversation in regards to sauce pots springs immediately to mind. Lets all get together to Sauce pot this horrible fat cat regime that we are forced to travel with!! Viva la Sauce revolution!! Fight the Saucey fight my friends!!
Damn right. Let’s hijack the tube and stuff the suited fiends with sauce until they explode like plump duck livers!! We could pass it off as an animal rights trip.