Bus Wanker

Bus Wanker


I read a blog once by someone who had bought a scarf and he went on for about three hundred paragraphs about his scarf and where he bought it and how it made him feel. The last time I bought a scarf I wore it. End of story. I didn’t write a novel about it.

I got on a bus the other day and the driver said to me.

“Going any where nice sir?”

I reply “does it look like it? I’m getting on a fucking bus”

You know what they say about buses, you wait for one bus…. And you wait and you wait, and you wait a bit more, and the case of Arriva Yorkshire you carry on waiting till hell freezes over or at least Men in vests become morally acceptable, and you never have any clue what time the bus may turn up, often just when that fat tattoo riddled bus driver can be arsed ( I am not the fittest but I am fairly fit due to regularly thinking about jogging and I once performed a jumping jack. It was unintentional and involved a spider but it still counts) or what time he finishes screwing some hooker he picked up in some dark alley on one of his rounds.
Isnt evolution amazing! One minute they’re swinging through the trees, the next they’re driving buses. I have heard that People who drink on buses will be barred from using them again. All very good in theory but eventually they’ll run out of drivers.

Now most people would say it is men that  drive too fast, and women are the careful and considerate drivers, that may generally be true, but I tell you, in my experience it is those scary lesbian looking ‘women’ that are the worst! They look at you like you broke into their house on Christmas day and pissed on their kids, every time you set foot on the bus; they look like you are putting them out in someway, like it is a big chore to open the door to a paying customer! And seriously do not get me started on actually trying to paying for your Delightful journey. Is their anyone who actually knows how much their fare is supposed to be? It is pretty much different every time I step on that bus, like a shit game of Russian roulette, don’t have the correct fare and you die, another reason why I really need to start learning to drive.

Jesus, and if you have not got the exact change, bloody hell you are basically in the shit, they look at you like you have just drowned some kittens! You may have a fiver, and your bus faircould be £2.80, oh but that is not good enough for Wendy the semi-professional wrestler behind the wheel. Despite not ever knowing how much the fare is, you MUST have the correct change or there is literally no chance of hopping on the over crowded, flea pit, surrounded by people who look like they have just escaped from Chernobyl. People who look like they have just eaten Greggs, I don’t mean a few pasties, i actually mean Greggs, the whole shop, bricks and all
While I am on the subject,

Why is it that skinny girls think that they’re a bit chubby?
Curvy girls think that they’re fat?
Fat girls think that they’re obese?
And Obese girls think they’re fucking supermodels?

People who between them have as many teeth as I do in my whole mouth, whose teeth decided to abandon ship, in anticipation of the large amounts of special brew that they were likely to be drowned in, and those few who are lucky enough to have 3 teeth or possibly even more, look like the teeth are writing the suicide note,  after all no one else on the cesspit of a bus can write.  People who count as benefit day as ‘payday’

After 17 years out of work, I’ve finally got an interview next week.

Me and the wife are guests on an episode of The Jeremy Kyle Show called “My Husband Is Britain’s Laziest Scrounger.
These people need putting down but I was taught never to make a threat unless you are prepared to carry it out, and I am not a fan of carrying anything. Even watching other people carrying things makes me uncomfortable. Mainly because of the possibility they may ask me to help.

To give you an idea of what Yorkshires ‘Bus Operator of the year 2012’ clientele actually are like, imagine the scene, It’s a dark stormy night, Doctor Frankenstein is desperately trying to get his hideous and chilling monster right, he has raided the local cemetery of dead bodies, he has chopped them up and sewn body parts together in the hope of creating a living thing. Mean while next door, there is a big fuck off explosion in JD sports, and all the cast off’s get covered in Addidas trackie pants, and Reebok classic shoes. Then a Farmer comes in and spreads cow shit all over them… and you are somewhat close to the type of people I am talking about.

Anyway as you can imagine getting on the bus at least twice a day is always a thrill, seeing all those happy smiley gums, who could want anything else in life. In fact it may not really surprise you to know that I have had my fair share of run ins with bus drivers, one rather jumped up meff actually took my lunch off of me once, I am deadly serious, I had a salad from Morrison’s which was just across the road from my stop, and he refused to let me on in case I ate on the bus! Now I understand not eating, but it was not even open, because I could not be arsed actually trying to communicate with the bald chimp, I just gave him it and sat down. So I stumbled to the back of the bus as he set off rather quickly (he did that on purpose too) to find a guy genuinely injecting something into his arm!

‘Excuse me you can not come on this bus with a salad you might spill it and get a slightly unripe tomato on the floor’

‘Nah mate it’s just a bit of smack, i’m gonna get of me fuckin tits man’

‘Ah no problem sir, have a lovely day’

Is there any other profession in the world where you can basically turn up anytime you like and it does not matter?

Now the amount of times that these particular buses,i say buses, it’s the 229 from Leeds (sue me Arriva), either are late or do not bother to turn up at all, really takes the piss, it is not just occasionally, it is everyday without fail. The bus turning up on time is rarer that a unicorn or a 12 year old girl who did not meet Jimmy Saville. So I have come up with an idea, you tell me if this is fair… for every minute those miserable cock gobblers do not turn up we can deduct 20p off (our often made up) fare? Sound reasonable? I thought so too!

So with an idea worthy of dragons den in my head, I went onto the Arriva website, I was genuinely shocked to see that if a bus is 5 minutes late, or even 1 minute early then you can get on for free!! Seriously have a look at the bottom of this laughable customer mission statement

Arriva customer promise ‘We value your custom and welcome customers from all communities that we serve. Here we have outlined the quality of service that we promise to deliver to you:

• We aim to ensure that you have a safe, comfortable journey on a clean, well-maintained bus

• You will be able to identify your Arriva bus by its distinctive turquoise and cream colours• The route number and destination of the bus will be clearly displayed• Your bus will be driven by a professional wearing a uniform• We will always endeavour to be helpful, courteous and treat people with respect

• We are committed to providing a range of good value tickets, so that you can choose the one that suits you best

• Information about the times of Arriva buses is available from this website from traveline on 0871 200 22 33 If you wish to be kept up to date with information about your local bus service, including any promotions, please let us know via the ‘talk to us’ section on this website

.• We will make it easy for you to tell us what you like or don’t like about our services via our customer services hotline 0844 800 44 11. This number will be displayed on all our vehicles. Feedback can also be provided in writing: please refer to the Talk to Us section for further contact details

• We will respond to comments made within 10 working days of receipt and will keep you up to date on progress in the meantime

• We try to run all buses on time. However sometimes things outside our control, like traffic congestion or road works, might affect your journey. We will work with others to reduce the impact wherever possible

• If your bus leaves early or is more than 5 minutes late and we are to blame, we will offer you a future journey free of charge. Should this be the case please contact our customer services on 0844 800 44 11

Now the important bit here is ‘if we are to blame’ the greatest get out clause in history ‘no it was not my fault, the hooker I paid for was shit at blowjobs so I took ages to finish, and I spent £5 on that’

Anyway…there is a point to all this, I was sat on the bus (which makes a change as usually I have to stand) on the way to the White Rose shopping centre, and I was thinking, seriously why is there no strict rules about who and who can not get on the bus? Why do normal people, well relatively normal ones who don’t drag there knuckles along the floor, or tuck their pants into their socks, have to put up with listening to bloody Rhianna on the bus at full blast, while some thirteen year old girl takes a break from telling her friend ‘Chardonnay’ how she got fingered at Steve’s house, to sing along to her favourite part of the song? like she is one of those fruit loops on X-factor (what is with all those sob stories! a friend of mine once auditioned for the X-factor, so to give him a better chance i flushed his fish down the toilet and shot his mum)

So I came up with a few rules which I thought I would share with everyone, and who knows, if people like it we could change the world!! To day the 229 service, tomorrow the world! Ok maybe a bit too much there, but as Martin Luther King said ‘I have a dream today’ although I was a bit Adolf Hitler ish in my dream just then… That’s a name that has died out…Adolf, weird.

Anyway as I was doing some shopping, not in the same way ladies do their shopping, mine was just walking past the shops, having a look in the window and quickly deciding there was nothing in the shop that I liked, to be perfectly honest I think that I only went there for the Nando’s chicken! Arghh the perks of no longer dating a vegetarian. It reminds me of a joke I heard from a really rather sick friend of mine, now apologies in advance…

Women are like buses. You often get funny looks when you wank on ‘em. (Sorry mum)

I do feel sorry for the Guys in here. They all look exhausted, from being dragged round every shop by their Mrs, constantly having to lie, and say that their significant other looks fabulous in everything they try on, even if they look like roadkill. You can literally see them all stood outside the shop looking at their watches, getting more frustrated by the second, I mean it is dinner time on a Sunday, there is 4 hours of football on, its super Sunday for gods sake. All the blokes give each other either a knowing nod or a forced smile, they are all in the same boat.I sat down and had my chicken, just people watching, I do love people watching, I can never tell what people are saying but I like to make up my own back stories for them.When a good looking girl walks past a group of maybe 4-5 girls, they suddenly all stop what they are doing, like a group of Meercats, and just stare, they look her up and down to try and find fault with her. Then as soon as the pretty girl is out of earshot they embark on a massive bitch fest. It’s just the way with girls, it is like a drug to them, they have to bitch it comes as naturally as breathing. The amount of times I have sat with girls who are quite happy to slag off friends and work colleagues, then as soon as they see them it is like nothing as happened, like they are best pals. Now be careful here men a strong word of advice here, just because your Mrs will slag off her friends over and over again, in no way make the mistake that you can join in! oh no, you cant, she is quite happy for you to listen to her tell you how her friend looked like a pig in a blanket at that wedding, but if you say anything at all in agreement prepare for a barrage of abuse! Prepare for the ‘she is my friend not yours’ speech It is the greatest hypocracy in the world and there is nothing you can do about it. That’s the thing with you women, you are a mystery, and you say that men do not understand you! No you are right we have no fucking idea! None what so ever! Now girls is there a right answer to the question that every man dreads… and I mean every single man in the world…. Do I look fat in this? This is a trick question gents, refuse to answer it, do not go down that road, and do not even attempt to answer. It can only end badly. And trust me, if you get stung by this question once, you will never in your life make the same mistake again. If you say no, she will think you are ‘just saying that’ and she will just go get changed anyway thinking that you lied to her, so now she thinks you are a liar. If you say yes, well basically prepare to have your balls stuck in a vice and be castrated with a rusty spoon.Us men need to accept we will never win, it is like the war in Vietnam, winning is just not an option, it is best to roll over and play dead.

Now as I was sat at that table, this is truthfully the conversation I over heard, now I can guarantee any man who reads this will have had the exact same conversation, it is guaranteed, it went something like this…

‘Are you ready to go home babe we have been here 5 hours’‘But I have not got anything yet’‘But we have been into every shop’‘Can we just go back to the first shop again; I think I want to get that dress’

Amazing, there are just no words sometimes ladies.

Anyway, I made a few rules for the bus, she if you like them…

1. All passengers should be sniffed before coming on board – if you can not be arsed to get your self in the shower then you should not be allowed on. Why should I have to sit gagging at the back of the bus because you smell like your dogs ball sack?

2. Men with long hair just get off the bus – if you are a bloke in his 50s and you have long hair, you need to have a long hard look at the life you are living. Until you get it cut you are not stepping foot on this bus. If you are going bald as well cut off that little rat’s tale! You are not fooling anyone! you look like you touch young boys… Jimmy Saville had long hair..

3. If you do not have the money to get on the bus do not haggle- this is not a market in Morocco, you can not barter with the bus driver. Would you go into Tesco’s and haggle over the price of a can of coke? No, now fuck off you tight c**t

4. A bag is not a passenger – if you have a bag, do not put it on a seat, especially during rush hour. A bag is an inanimate object; it will not mind being put on the floor. Get it off the seat and let someone sit down. Did you buy the bag its own little bus pass? No, no you didn’t.

5. If you are lucky enough to get a seat on the bus, sit on the seat nearest the window – if you are lucky enough to have the 2 seats to yourself, do not sit on an isle seat, I will ask you to move, and I will deliberately brush up against you all the way home.

6. Being a woman does not entitle you to a seat – I know it is controversial ladies, but unless you are so old you can hardly walk and no longer in charge of your bodily functions, being a lady is not a reason you have to ask me to leave my seat. It has happened a few times and I will continue to refuse. Its just equal rights ladies, you wanted the vote, and equal pay, well then you have to give up some privileges. After all I would rather see a pregnant woman standing on a bus, rather than a fat woman sitting down crying

7. No prams or pushchairs at rush hour – if you have had a ‘happy accident’ and need to take the bus, then there are plenty of hours in which to take your delightful daughter or son on the bus. If little baby Chlamydia (it sounds strange, but genuinely one of my friends who is a nurse had to stop a parent calling her daughter that. The ’mother’ said she thought it sounded exotic I kid you not) push chair takes up 3 seats then you will be kicked off the bus. But you will probably not notice, because you will be to busy playing candy crush on your brand new iphone that i have paid for

8. If your baby screams shut it up – if your child, your little bundle of joy, or your ticket to sky plus, however you want to look at them, cries and screams on the bus, do something about it. The amount of times these so called young ‘rough as a badgers arse’ mothers just ignore a crying child, while they talk to their friend Britney on the phone, describing in painful detail have they got gangbanged in a field, or just gave a hand job to the guy in the job centre to get a bigger house amazes me. My ears are bleeding shut the thing up! On a side note to that, if you have a babies ears pierced you should be thrown of the bus by your pubes!

9. Do not talk to me – I have my headphones in for a reason.

10. No music – I do not mean people with headphones, I mean those complete tossers who think it is cool to put there speaker phones on and sing at the top of there lungs? What’s the best that could happen? You think Simon cowells car has just broken down and he has decided to take the bus? No he hasn’t so shut the hell up!

11. if you are really fat buy two tickets – I am sorry but being fat is not and excuse, why should I have to sit with my head up your sweaty armpit and facing your ‘Moobs’ just because you say you are partial to a bit of cake ‘now and then’? I feel sorry for fat people on buses though sometimes they put the widest seat right at the back.

My mate pulled two girls last night.

“They’re like buses,” I said.

“What?” he said. “Because you wait for ages then two come at once?”

“No,” I replied. “They are like buses.”

Another rant over with,


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