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pokeybanana

 

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P-TV: Banana Skin

Added: Tuesday, February 11th 2020 at 6:28am by pokeybanana
 
 
 

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Sumptuous irony!

The complete opposite from when I travelled home from Manchester at Christmas. I was at the tram station and popped my £3.75 (terrible value) into the tram money eating box. My ticket was duly and efficiently delivered. I turned away from the metal bitch yet to my surprise I heard a clink, clink, clink, clink. 

The box had already given me my ticket and then also gave me my money back! HURRAH!

And then it coughed up another five quid on top of THAT! 

This is a slot machine, not a ticket tosser, I mused!

So I was around £8 up on the deal, and had a bona fide ticket (unusual thing  for me).

This is my lucky day! I thought.

Then the tram was delayed for 20 mins, meaning I'd miss my train here.

Then we got on the tram, but it stopped outside Manchester station for HALF AN HOUR! There were hundreds of us in that tiny tin train. All pressing up against each other, barely able to balance. Occasionally laughing at the odd small child or wavering old person that went down and was crushed under foot for brief entertainment. Other than that, a never ending ennui!A throbbing, rubbing ennui. (Normally its a lack of those things that causes ennui. But not when your rubbing partners are business types who are all older than you, or the tram nutter, or an elderly woman with a dubious sense of humour who talks about being buried in a Y-shaped coffin - FUCK!).

Anyway, in the end the eternal tram lunged forward. Then died, then lunged, then died for ages, then lunged, and we eventually lunged our way to the platform that had only been about 30 feet from us for fucking ages. Finally they got the dead tram off the track and we could get our deserved value for money for such expensive cost per mile transport by arriving somewhere near our intended destination.

I got to the train station. All regular trains to here had been cancelled. A bit of track had gone wonky or something. But an emergency train would get us home by an alternative route. An hour later than the regular ones would do, mind. I had started off in the early morn. But it was starting to get dark now.

Still, it was nice to get onto the train. Next to a woman with a cough, behind a man with a cough. And with some foreign dude SNIFFING every fucking nano second, as loud as sniffing could ever be. JUST GROB IT OUT AND LET THE TRAIN CLEANERS DEAL WITH IT LATER! I screamed. Inside my head. Go on! Spew it into the magazine holder in the back of the seat. No one will mind, you graceless Sniffling FUCK! I counted his sniffles. Each one was a mental dagger in my mind. 743 mental stabbings. The heartless bastard!

Also, on another subject,  normally, I wouldn't have been too pissed off by the guy on the train on the phone who has everything "down". You know the guy. He's negotiating a mega-deal with some mega dude called Rod, wishing him happy Christmas, his family too, talking about a super yacht holiday opportunity in the summer. Making sure that people in the next two carriages can hear just  how amazing he is. The kind of guy who wouldn't go for a piss on a train as it would besmirch his heroic image irreparably.

But by this time my mentality was hanging by a slither. The ugly tram orgy, the cough, cough, cacophony, the Wappen SS (Sniff sniff) interrorgator, all bound up in the nice little bow that was my barren, broken, burningly miserable life. But then ..

OH, THANK FUCK ITS MY STOP! AT LAST, I CAN LEAVE ALL THIS BEHIND!

I'M HOME!

And when I got home, I found that Windows had done an update on my PC that killed off a vital system restore point that I needed to save my 4TB internal hard drive that cost me £200. 

I look at its dead carcass every day now. The final Windows updare for Windows 7.

Destroyed 4TB of information.

 

Not my best Christmas really.

Should have had a sex orgy on the train.  If nothing else it would have passed the time.

I don't use trains.  I drive instead.  So much better than public transport.  No coughing people, smelly oddballs or people who want to talk to you.  

Who the fuck needs 4TB of space?  How much porn do you have exactly?

You make the vids small, I'll make the responses lengthy!{#smiley-laughing.gif}

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