Oh where, oh where has my little lunatic gone?
Oh where, oh where can he/she/neuter/extraterrestrial/hollow earth moleman be?
With his/her/its/what sense cut short, and his/her/its tail/claw/raygun cut long,
Oh where, oh where is he/she/it/thee?
While you all drone on about the wonders of near-printemps warmth, some of us have to suffer the stench of filthy parkas flush with stale cigarettes, cigars, armpits & sweat. At least there was no urinal aroma.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Public transportationista bizarrerie, how do I not miss thee, let me count the ways.
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16 comments:
I see you're going with the classics. At last.
I used to take 3 separate buses to get to H.S. downtown in Washington, D.C., mister. And we lived in a ditch by the side of the road.
~
To be honest, I have been on a bus in probably, 15 years.
And you have such a way with words... you ALMOST make me want to hop on one, right now.
There's a tiny slice of cheesecake on my blog for you. :) -if you know what I mean *wink,wink*
((Hugs))
Laura
*haven't* been on a bus ..... that's what I meant to say. I was tripping over myself to tell you about the cheesecake and got careless!
I deal with the public. That means anyone and everyone. And yes, some people come in smelling not so pleasant. But having to sit next to the stink and be mushed up against it for extended periods of time--no thanks! But I thank you for enduring all that for the sake of the Earth.
Signed,
Dirty Fucking Hippy
At least there was no urinal aroma
You must live in the high pockets part of town. I knew you were a member of the establishment elite. I just knew it.
That AL song is one of my favorite Al songs.
And Doc Demento rocks. Or used to anyway.
I hope that Anarchy in the USA lady makes another appearance in the near future.
I wish I could take pictures of weird people on the bus and get away with it, but then I'd be the one looking quite creepy.
if, what, Negative Plane ain't classic?
I got Weird Al's autograph way back in 1984 and I had to climb out of the ditch of the ditch I lived in.
laura, either that or you remembered the splendorous odors and got lightheaded.
liberality, doin' it for the kids.
mrmacrum, elite? Bah, I simply remembered to pack my hazmat suit.
thatgirl, especially now that I've got one of those fancy mechanical camera gadgets.
Hmm, you might be able to get away with it if you put on your finest artistic airs. I'd just look like a grungy perv.
I can almost not miss Strange Albert, it's the loss of the accordian I can't abide!
//flush with stale cigarettes, cigars, armpits & sweat.//
HA! Just quit hanging out with Ann Coulter!!
The San Francisco muni is exactly like that.
As a former bus commuter, I can relate.
Susan Tiner: Golden Gate Transit (Bus #80) is every bit as grimy and full of #%$&!#%$! as any Muni bus I ever rode.
The way things are going maybe Cleveland buses will soon look like those Indian ones and you'll be able to ride on the roof in style.
charles, accordion über alles!
okjimm, come now, everyone knows that talking hairpieces are made out of the innards of discarded Stretch Armstrongs and thus don't technically have armpits.
susan t, truly? Thanks for ruining a perfectly good hippie aroma stereotype.
tom, but now that you're a rich overlord, you have your driver trot you around the burg.
susan, but then I'd get a tan & resemble Orange Julius more than I'd like. Think the chemicals are the cause of his weeping?
Young people today don't know how good they have it, not like in th'good old days ...
Bwah!
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