Busses and Babes
A few years back after a heavy night on the tiles I had the need to use a bus to get back into town to retrieve my car from outside the pub where i'd left it the night before.

It was around mid afternoon on a Sunday and the bus was empty apart from me and 3 young girls around the ages of about 18/20.

They had got onto the bus after me and had chosen to sit about two or three rows in front of me.

No probs there, they were all good looking and smelled nicely..... of girl......

However after a few minutes I started to pick up on the conversation of one in particular who had clearly had a "busy" night the night before.

She happily regaled her friends with stories of a lad she picked up at the local cattle market less than 15 hours before..

Again no real probs.

I sat, listened and quietly chuckled to myself whilst trying to kid on I was doing no more than taking in the view as we made our way into town.

So where does the trauma come in? you may ask. Nice babes and a fruity story. Certainly better than Sunday School......

I'll tell you where..........

Just before she left the bus the Lass from Saturday parted with those immortal words "I had to work so hard, god it was good"........... as she let it be known she was now about five minutes from round two (yes she was going back for more).....

Traumatised.............. I was fking livid!

Why have I never met girls that are happy to "work so hard".......... and who were happy to do it at least twice..............



Thinks????


And stops typing............



I started using taxis after that.
(Dark Matter All The Wonders In The World & We Invent Boredom, Fri 30 May 2008, 12:52, Reply)