the LIRR is sucking the life out of the bastard

these last few days, the bastard has benn taking the long island railroad to work and i gotta tell ya, the bastard has never seen a more dour lot. i have never seen so many people whose eyes have had the lights gone out on them. it's all cranky looking men looking sloppy and snapping the paper and women with bad haircuts scowling with faces that only the fucking hapsburgs could love. on the contrary the young upwardly mobile african americans on the train look so upbeat, so well dressed, so well put together, so much happier to be alive. it's such a fascinating 180 degree turn from these grey faced hardened suburbanites who bump you without so much as an excuse me. by the by, you there with the big hair who i just tried to trip on track 15 tonight? you know who you are. that wasn't an accident shiteyes. just because you can afford to live in the suburbs doesn't mean that it makes you classy. cause it don't.

now here's the bastard's other problem with the lirr, no art. every platform looks kind of like the opening 10 minutes of eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when jim carrey runs for the montauk line

as we can see here, craptastic queens has art under the ground. granted i don't necessarily like it but, it breaks up the mundane.

i mean, hell, the M train goes through parts of brooklyn so shity that the bastard never saw a single beggar on the train in the time he was taking it. i'm sure that the mad russian could tell me otherwise but i saw none of it. still and all the last stop in brooklyn at marcy avenue has this beautiful stained glass. every morning for a month, i thought about the monk who came up with the idea of stained glass. he said he wanted to create a divine space so that churchgoers could feel closer to god. maybe stained glass makes one feel closer to oneself as well. i don't know.

you know, this evening as i was getting off the train i was clsoing my jacket to step out into the wind and a young black girl smiled at me. it made me think that there's some hope out there for this little gray space i'm commuting on. now go eat your dinner, jerkface.

—the bastard