Things I hate #16

Bus stops. Why are there so many of the fuckers? Come on! I was driving into town the other morning, stuck behind a fat single decker, staring at some advert for a pawnbrokers plastered on the back, telling me how much cider I could buy with my unwanted gold, slowly being poisoned by diesel fumes, and at one point we were stopping every hundred bloody yards. At the most. And I couldn’t get past because we were on some route that had never been planned for buses. It was a pain in the arse. I’d no sooner see someone get on the bus, a cloud of thick black smoke would cough out of the back, it’d set off, wheeze its way forward for about ten seconds and then it’d be stopping again. What’s the story with that? How can that be efficient? For the fuel economy of the bus and the line of traffic crawling along behind it or for traffic management? It doesn’t make any sense. What are they thinking? I remember catching the school bus on my way to another day of recruiting propaganda for the NCB and a dinner made up of BSE-riddled beef, in those halcyon days when we were expecting the Soviets to nuke us every other week and Aztec Camera were being hailed as the new Beatles, there was a good half a mile between stops. Nothing wrong with that. It seemed fair enough to me. And then came the 1985 Transport Act and deregulation. Bloody Thatcher. Which means that buses can drive down cul-de-sacs and into every fucking estate, desperate for business, rather than sticking to the main roads like they used to, and you seem to have a bus stop every ten paces. So you get a twelve tonne (fully laden) Routemaster bus clarting down a narrow track residential road, weaving in and out of parked cars. Which makes sense, because bus drivers are known for their steady driving and consideration to other motorists, aren’t they? Cunts. So now we have bus stops anywhere and everywhere. These days if they raise their voices a bit, people at one stop can have a conversation with someone up the road at the next stop. It’s late again, isn’t? Yes, and when it comes it’ll stink of piss. It’s fucking stupid.

 

Added to this, it’s well known that Britain is actually sinking into the waves. I saw it on Alan Titchmarsh’s British Isles – A Natural History. Alan proved it by standing on top of Aonach Mor, wrapped up in a red parka, holding a spirit level. Alan showed that Britain’s like Venice on a bigger scale but with less gondoliers. We’re going down. The foundations just won’t take the weight. Footings have had it. This is partly due to the ‘more the merrier’ immigration policy and Gordon Brown’s rancorous obsession with building more houses and more houses and more fucking houses until the entire country looks like a prosperous Stalinistic council estate, with every house watching Eastenders in a different language. Posso eu ter uma pinta de pálido, Peggy? Конечно вы можете, милочка. Как ваши сливы делают? Mollig en vast. 厚顏無恥! Did Gordon choose Blue Mink’s ‘Melting Pot’ when he went on Desert Island Discs? The short-sighted twat. But this Septic Isle is also going down under the shuddering weight of obesity. I blame Colleen fucking Nolan and Kerry bastard Katona. Mum’s gone to Iceland. Mum’s bought saturated industrial fat and pig snouts dressed up as quality save pork sausages. Fifty links for a quid. Mum’s bought profiteroles that each have the concentrated fat content of Michelle McManus, Russell Grant and James Corden rolled together in a ball and compressed to the size of a Malteser. Each like a ticking Tardis of fat. And with all these bloody bus stops we’re pandering to the fatties. We’re encouraging people to expect to be picked up and dropped off at their door. Get the fuckers walking. Let’s burn off that adipose tissue and all those sugars. And what about the carbon footprint, eh? Global warming is fucking us all up. The polar bears and the penguins are shitting it. Greenhouse gases and over-consumption. De-forestation and fossil fuels belching into the atmosphere. The ice caps are melting up on the Pennines. Manchester’s going to be underwater by the end of the Century at this rate. Sheffield will be the New Atlantis. OK, so there’s a Ying to every Yang. But do the bus companies care? Do they fuck. Like the bus in front of me the other morning. Start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, stop all within half a mile. Everyone on that bus might as well take a car tyre and just fucking burn it; one car tyre pumping out toxins everyday for every journey they make. And then eat a big bag of crisps that have been deep fried in lard and dripping. Colleen Nolan, Gordon Brown and public transport are killing the planet. They are the Axis of Evil. We’ve fucking had it.

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One comment

  1. pauljudges · February 28, 2010

    You should come and live out here, we haven’t had a bus since 1963…..

    Like

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