you know how the bastard knows that spring is coming? he begins to enjoy the benefits of the humidity. there's nothing i like better than standing on a train platform knowing it's below 50 degrees outside and still i'm sweaty. god! that is fucking good times. if a bastard is on a train leaving from chicago doing 35 mph moving west and another bastard is leaving from wichita moving east at 20 miles an hour, when will i be free of irritating commuters? and for that matter, why the hell am i doing math problems when i'm just trying to sleep on said train?anyway, the bastard is on the train sleeping the sleep that only a man as dead inside as i am can on a train, when someones phone rings and i am rousted back into the cursed waking world to find that the woman sitting across from me is taking a phone call from a male friend who is on the other side of the car from her. i realy don't know how i feel about this. on the one hand it's cute. two people. jibber jabbing. on the phone. in the same train car. that's cute. but then again, i'm dead inside and trying to sleep. so i think i'll have to go with, "OH MY GOD! WILL YOU CUT THAT SHIT OUT! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP OFF THEIR MISERABLE COMMUTE!" bu then again, i don't think i would have wanted to get up and move across the train if i was her. these LIRR train aren't exactly wide enough for people to just stand in the aisles of without having your ass in someone's face. long story short, the conversation ended and i went back to dreamland. or was it dream-less-land and she woke me up again knocking into me with her knockoff vuitton bag trying to get out of the car. i guess their conversation didn't really go so well. poor guy. or maybe good for him.
you know how else the bastard knows that spring is in the air? penn station smells like urine again. good times.
—the bastard
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