I hate the #5. The bus to Blackbird Leys. It's full of chavs and twats. It often smells of dog. Sometimes it smells of dog when the only dogs are those under the wheels.
Most of the time I'm on the bus I'm doing one of two things: listening to the inane conversation of the unwashed, unemployed and unlovable, mentally noting it down for my other documenting of rage, or I'm listening to my iPod on very loud while pretending the rest of the world does not exist. This features a lot:
Sometimes I have a moment of conscience and think, "Hmm, maybe I should turn this down. I might be disturbing my fellow passengers." Then I pause it for a moment and listen to some oxygen-stealing douchebag murdering the English language, and I unpause it and turn it up. Seethe.
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