Germ Vans
I'm gonna start at the beginning, as i have had many years of Poverty Wagon experience and it hasn't all been good, in fact it can be very fucked up....as you all know.

When in primary school i lived on a council estate, one of its more colourful characters was a psycho called 'Man McGinn' who was going out with/buggering local single mum, 'Linda Lookback' on account of her twitch. On the bus and there is Man McGinn with the 5 year old step-daughter. She is bouncing about like 5 year old do, nothing outrageous. However, McGinn quickly tires of this and shouts loud enough so everyone can hear, "Sit on yer cunt". Shocking even by 1981 standards.

Fast forward many years, and i am on the top deck of the bus heading home on a Friday, 6pm or so. I am reading a book and drinking a hoegaarden. 3, VERY drunk wide-o's get on and the drunkest sits in front of me and his pals beside me. He immediately turns round and asks me if i want a can, they have a cargo as well. I refuse and show him my beer, and say thanks anyway. This refusal must have piqued some remote part of his brain and i can see the machinations behind his eyes. He is getting annoyed, starts asking me who I am and all that sort of 'prelude to a fight' stuff. His pals look at me with sympathy, the twat has probably been baiting other folk for most of teh afternoon and they are now tired of his antics. They tell him to shut up, that i am a 'good guy' and he should just drink his can and chill out, the usual patter. He does chill out for a few minutes, then starts back down the path of potential violence, then is calmed down by his pals, then starts again...I really should have got the fuck down to the bottom deck, but i felt he was more mouth than anything. The he states that he is in fact 'gonna stab you tay fuck', i kinda laugh as do his pals. the he gets up on his drunken legs, bus rocking and reaches into his 'Benzini' jacket, his pal stands up and suggests that i just go down the stairs, for my own good. I do. But not before he threatens me and bit more, incoherent and pathetic. One good kick and the cunt would have been down... Anyway...it was a long journey and very tense at that.

A very positive one was after a night out in Manchester me and Mrs Cancer Joy got the coach back to Nottingham, where we went up the back and proceeded to fuck and suck our way home..Looking out for lorry drivers coming alongside was the only distraction. Mildly uncomfortable, but a good way to pass the time.

On the train this time, i had missed my usual commuter special and was getting one an hour later. The train was MUCH quieter and i sat at the bottom of a carriage, which was basically empty. This young ned sits right across from me, smiles and attempts to start a conversation. I assumed his goal was to beg for money or offer me chav-sex. He barely got the first words of his sentence out, when i simply got up and walked into another carriage. I sat with my back to normal looking guy who was facing me and started reading my paper. It's not long before he starts talking to himself...fuck it, no problem i think. He starts getting more and more agitated, moving onto shouting and threats, aimed at me, his reflection, elves, who fucking knows. I turn round an tell hi to calm the fuck down, he pathetically claims he is sorry and does look pretty wretched....Its then the carriage door opens and in walks the most unconvincing tranny you ever did see, replete with stubble and ill fitting wig. Fucking hell, whats was this, the spakkers special. Shouting boy then starts up again and i decide to face him, this shuts him up a bit, you dont really keep your back to a fuck up like that.

There are more, but i will have to get some reggression therapy to extract them.

Length - about 27m
Speed - 60mph
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Fri 30 May 2008, 12:14, 1 reply)

special
If only for the term "spakkers special"... you get a click
(Grolus, Fri 30 May 2008, 13:53, closed)