Wednesday, August 30, 2006


People who leave their crap on the bus should have their oysters confiscated and their hands cut off (oh wait, must remember, Rikki Lake is always right "Violence is never the answer")

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Why he doesn't fancy you

I was traveling home the other night - it was late and I had just cleaned up in a game of poker. As I was thinking about what to spend my winnings on, I overheard two girls, probably in their early twenties discussing their evening.

"I should never have gone tonight. I knew that party would be crap", says the blonde girl. "I just don't get it - why didn't he talk to me, eh Vick?"

"Maybe he was just a bit busy darlin'," says her friend, "there were loads of people there."

"But he could've just said hello. I mean, it aint hard saying hello is it? Oh..." Cue tears and melodramatic wailing.

"Come on Nat, don't cry. He's not worth it."

"But why don't he fancy me Vick? I don't get it. Aren't I good enough? He doesn't even look at me - why don't he fancy me?"

"I dunno Nat, but it probably didn't help when you threw up on him darlin'."

What? You puked on him?! Hello, no wonder he didn't fancy you darlin!

"Yeah, you're probably right" says the blonde girl, as she tries to stifle her sobbing.

Yes, your friend is probably right.


Sunday, August 13, 2006

What a picture

Yesterday was a grey and wet day in London and waiting for the bus in the rain left a heaviness in my heart. To add to my dismay, along came the 67 before the 149. What to do? I love the 149 but I hate the rain. So, with a sigh, I decided to board the 67 and get home as fast as I could. Wearily, I climbed the stairs in the hope that the driving seat would be empty and help raise my spirits. Alas, no. I took my seat about half way along the bus when lo an behold, I spied an odd looking pair in front of me. "Surely not?!" I thought. But here is the evidence (see above). It was Gilbert and George in trademark tweed. I had heard a rumour that the couple make a regular trip to a kebab shop in Dalston but thought that it was artistic bullshit. But no - the pair got off the bus at said kebab shop stop and disappeared into the Dalston gloom. And to think I would have missed it if I'd waited for my beloved 149. I went home smiling, inspite of the rain.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Mr Lover Lover

I'm going to deviate slightly on this one and recount a story aboard the number 243 - a similar route but crucially a double decker (no, not the chocolate bar that never quite took off).

I was sitting upstairs in the driving seat (you know, the one up front in the right hand corner that lifts your heart when it's empty), when the crackle of the microphone disturbed my reading of The History of Love (by Nicole -writes suspiciously like Jonathan Safran Foer slash husband coincidence? - Krauss).

"We're not stopping at the next stop - the next bus stop is not in use", informed the driver.

"That was helpful of him" I thought, but sadly for him, the driver forgot to switch his microphone off. Ah, I suspect you see, where this one's going....

"Come and talk to me" says the driver, "What you do for the money?"


"Oh, so you're a clever lady. I like clever ladies."

Pause. Sniggers from fellow top deckers.

"So why is a pretty little thing like yourself traveling alone? "

Outright laughing from girl sitting next to me.

"I don't believe it. Today must be my lucky day! So tell me where you'e going and I'll drop you anywhere you like sweetheart..."

And then I guess he must have realised about the mic since the last thing we heard him say was "Bugger" before a thud and the abrupt end to our performance.

I'd bet you a one-day travelcard that he got her number - what a smooth operator.