Poor Man About Town

Today was a rainy soggy day. The buses were running like cattle trucks. I was in Sutton, I attempted to avoid the school crush and got to my bus stop at 2.45, the bus was running and the bus that I wanted zoomed by packed with passengers - it zoomed by 10 minutes later than what it said on the time table. The next bus came at 10 minutes later than what the time table stated - it was packed but the driver allowed us on. We reached Carlshalton; there was a mass of school girls who came on the bus like a flock of mad geese and sounding similar. Some girls tried to board the bus through the middle doors, but a West Indian man denied them entrance "get in the queue, respect", phew that was a relief. He then shut the door via the emergency control, well it was an emergency. The driver seemed panicked, he turned off the engine, but did not tell any of the girls to get off the bus nor did he shut the doors on his part of the bus. Eventually the bus moved off. Some of the girls sounded quite political commenting that the school should invest its money in buses rather than in laptops. Although they were quite loud and got on my nerves, they were quite well-behaved. Got off at Croydon to catch my connecting bus - it came, it was packed to the degree that faces of school kids were squashed up against the door windows - they looked in a complete state of resigned despair. Something told me, this is not right - Transport for London is crap, it does not care about its passengers, it could not manage a kiddies merry go round let alone a bus network.

Labels: buses, public transport, schoolkids, tfl, transport, transport for london

I know bullshit when I see it, I know bullshit when I have to pay for it. Because I pay council tax and have an Oyster Card, Transport for London publish this magazine at the expense of those who pay council tax and its passengers. Not only that, they shell out a horrendous amount of money on postage to send me its fucking rag "London Loop". What you get is this glossy extolling how wonderful London's transport is and the splendid job that Transport for London is doing to meet its passengers' needs. Propaganda! at our expense.

The magazine is like circus programme - full of face painting extravaganzas, unicyle, clowns etc. You just get the feel the feeling that your commodified and corporate leftist Ken Livingstone has complete editorial control over it - a mini-Murdoch

"Splash out on some 'Black Gold' without guilt - Caviar House and Prunier (What the fuck is a prunier?), sells farmed caviar saving the sturgeon from extinction"

The mag advertises gives write ups on restaurants where admission is only permissable on presentation of a bank statement indicating that you have £2 million quid in your current account otherwise fuck off.

Here is a splendid example of commidified and corporate leftism al a Livingstone - the magazine suggests a visit to the Marx Memorial Library - I don't know who funds this - is it a theme park?

Then we have the fucking "Day of the Bicycles" London goes traffic free - in order to allow cyclists to zoom down the road and mount the pavement and intimidate pedestrians.

Article on Marylebone, oh fuck - as if you could really afford to live there.

Then we have Borough Market - oh fuck off - what you get are these stalls owned by rich middle class people who import extra virgin olive oil from little village in Sicily at 1p a litre and flog 10 000 times that amount. What you are getting here is just another shopping mall that merely flogs images and gastronomic fashion accessories - exotic knick-knacks for display in the kitchen when people come to a dinner party or supper - "...that is a Patagonian bull penis salami, we bought when we were in Buenos Aires..." - not so much keeping up with the Jones's but grinding them into the dust. Borough Market just sells middle class style weaponry.

I get to the end of the rag and despair that my money, my council tax and my fares are spent on producing and posting out this shit.

You go to Paris - superb public transport - nice buses, nice metro

You go to Berlin - superb public transport - nice buses, nice U-bahn

You come to London - and you have a transport system that would not be fit for battery hens and a management that could not even run a kiddies' merry-go-round. Yet, we get this expensive glossy magazine mailed to us at expensive postage to tell us an awful lot of bullshit. Why?

Labels: bullshit, London, transport, transport for london

Beer Can Man boarded the bus at around 9.00am today. He was carrying a small black plastic bag, he appeared lit up like Las Vegas. The seating on buses is rather irregular these days, one seat here, two seats there, some seats face to face, some towering behind others. Unlike the route masters, which had a regular seating order, these buses are truly magical. Beer Can Man found his seat in front of me and I was staring down at his bald and polished head. He had as much bling on his fingers as Jimmy Saville He had a small black plastic bag from which he was swallowing fluid. He was not fooling me, but he continued in this act of pretence until the contents of the can came to an end, when he took it out it the black plastic bag - it was Foster's Lager. He dumped the can on the floor and put the black bag in his holdall which he was also carrying. I felt so annoyed that I wanted slap a tattoo of triplets on his polished bald head - discretion being the better part of valour got hold of me - don't tangle with a drunk - I had to get to work.

Yet another annoyance on Public Transport.

Labels: beer, beer can man, buses, transport

The driver of today's bus may well have been me! There was this arsehole blocking the road with his body while babbling into his mobile phone, he had one of those massive cars that almost cover over half the width of the road, did he get in his car, no he did not - the bus driver bibbed his horn and shouted "get out the way, man - idiot", the idiot got into his massive car and continued babbling. He looked like one of those self-assured smug gits who does not give a shit about anyone else but himself, he was a suit without the jacket - dressed in shirt, tie and trousers. Then we had the lady who boarded the bus saying that she had spent money on her Oyster Card, bus driver demanded to see the receipt, when this was not produced, he lectured her about having a receipt. He, nevertheless, allowed her to continue her journey two stops down the road. Then we had a group of youths who tried to board the bus; one of whom looked 15 attempted to argue with the driver that he is 13, the driver would have none of it "show me proof that you are 13", youth replied "I don't have no proof, I'm thirteen..." They all disembarked.

Nice to see grumpies applying themselves

Labels: buses, grumpy old men, transport

I was sitting peacefully on a bus yesterday, I was in peaceful reverie until Mr Machismo boarded the bus. Mr Machismo stormed his way down the aisle nearly treading on my feet. If this berk could have made a public display of his bollocks he would have done. He was wearing a baseball cap to conceal his bald head. He sat down, quietly snorting like a bull in the last moments of a bullfight, next to an elderly passenger. I thought "what the fuck?". As the journey progessed, his elderly seat mate wanted to get off the bus, Mr Machismo made a flamboyant gesture, swinging around with his feet and his bag - his feet nearly treading on my toes and his bag nearly swinging into my face. Elderly passenger got off the bus, Mr Machism sat down on the outside of the two seats, thus taking up the "two for one option". Next stop, an elderly couple boarded the bus. In another flamboyant and theatrical gesture, he rose from his seat (I thought that he was going to offer the elderly couple the two seats which he and his bag were occupying)and told two boys to give up their seats to these "two old people" (I loved this use of his language here). The two boys obliged. Mr Machismo returned to his seats, occupying them as before, looking quite pleased with himself, obviously thinking what a swell guy he is and how much he loves he loves his parents who are "two old people".

Labels: buses, Grumble, irritations, machismo, transport

There has been a new development with parents and their small offspring - the parents shell out mucho spondooliks on these fucking mega-sized pushchairs, the size of which could easily fit a small hippopotamus, yet these idiots insist on loading these contraptions onto a crowded bus. Baby buggies are ok, they are small and light, but these new monsters seem to have been designed by idiots who are more minded to design armoured vehicles. Can't these idiots realise that small is beautiful.

Labels: buses, pushchairs, transport, travelling