Commuting On Manchester Metrolink
Let me count the ways...

* Retarded-by-choice chavs on the way to thier restart courses/dealers/modern apprenticeships whilst playing soulless 150bpm shite on thier mobile phones at top volume without headphones - ignorant shitbags. They're always sneering too - why? I mean, what have they got to be so pleased about? If I was one of them, what with thier stunted intellect, nonexistent prospects and frankly woeful dress sense, I'd be considering suicide.

* Vacuous bints on thier mobile phones wasting oxygen and airtime chattering at length and volume on subjects that Jade Goody wouldn't bother with.

* Up-thier-own-arse bints who think that the entire world owes them every courtesy in the book, and that they owe everyone else none at all.

* Emo titheads with iPods (yeah, way not-to-go-with-the-flow there) and too much eye make-up glaring at you as if you're responsible for thier acne, when in fact it's the cheapass too-light foundation they trowel on to thier miserable mugs.

* Eastern European gentlemen (amongst others) who really need to be introduced to the concepts of deodorant, shampoo, mouthwash and Daz fucking Automatic. Just because personal hygiene was an afterthought in the fucking warzone you ran from, it doesn't make reeking like an animal universally acceptable - sort it or walk.

* My growing belief that most high schools now rigorously enforce the rule of 'You must, when in groups of any number, converse as loudly as possible at all times whilst using any form of public transport'

* Followers of any particularly strict faith looking at you as if you're something that they've just wiped from thier shoe and somehow reappeared. A bit rich, I always think, seeing as the fact they're on the tram too means they're no better off than I am, whether god(s) love them or not.

* Almost everyone cramming themselves into a tight group at the doors as the vehicle arrives at the platform, making it near-impossible for others to get off and creating a bottleneck which makes getting on take twice as long and the doors often close before those pitifully few with a little more courtesy and forethought manage to board. Stupid thoughtless impatient inconsiderate self-absorbed twats.

* The vehicles themselves evidently having been designed, built and tested in a nice cosy air-conditioned room, rendering them prone to failure if the temperature, humidity or air pressure stray even slightly above or below what you'd find in your living room.

* The system in general being so badly organised and funded that at rush hour every tram is a game of sardines on fuck-bastarding rails, which of course makes every one of the above delights that much less delightful.

Both

Fucking

Ways.

Every

Fucking

Day.

Only problem is, I hate driving even more.

/DISCLAIMER - reading this makes me sound like a mysoginistic child-hating BNP buddy but please, don't get the wrong idea - I only hate everyone at rush hour and I do it with equal impunity. Except for chavs - I hate them all the time ;)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Thu 7 Sep 2006, 12:54, Reply)