hey!where the fuck is the train?
i gotta tell you.
there is nothing the bastard enjoys more than staying up late until 1:30 in the morning reading volume two of 100 bullets and waking up like he's been shot out of a cannon (how the hell do you this the bastard get's to the train station? walking?!?) and piling into this sardine can i call a train station only to find that no one has gone anywhere.
anywhere.
i mean what the hell?
can't a totally trucked brother get a break?
it's days like this the bastard remembers the most when the mta wants to raise fares. and then i feel completely incensed.
on the plus side, apparently my ipod had "helpless" by sugar and it brightened my otherwise annoying ride in by drowning out the couple across from me that are clearly married to different people but can't quite get around the fact that they have a metric ton of sexual tension between them and just talk the kind of small talk that makes the bastard want to hit them with a mallet.
i mean come on?
whatever happened to uncomfortable silence?
oh.
wait.
coffee's ready.
—the bastard
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