Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Fuck, fuck, double-turtle monkey humper. Fuck. I hate taking the bus. It’s so crowded with breath and condensation and touching and snot and weirdos. It makes my fucking skin crawl. I can’t figure out what’s worse…the drooling guy behind doctor prescribed wrap around sun glasses who keeps reaching his hand out to me like he wants me to touch him, the creepy 40-something woman with long white hair continuously sneezing into her hand, which mind you is protected by what appears to be a white mesh biking glove, or the clean cut dooshbag from the Marina who yells ‘Let her off people’ every time the bus stops. Yeah, we get it asshole. We know how the fucking bus works. As soon as I remove my testicles from this man’s left shoulder, contort my right leg so I can step over the impeccably dressed black guy without stepping on his alligator boots and duck so I don’t inhale a big furry Berkeley armpit from the 22-year old “God is a tree” chick then I can let her off. Man, I hate the fucking bus.