Bloody Soap Dodgers

Poo! what a pong!

What is it that certain members of the community have against personal hygiene. Can someone please explain to me why some cultures refuse to wear anti-perspirant or deodorant and instead wear their stink with pride. Now I know that experiments have been carried out with sweat and pheromones etc and some scents have been found to have an erotic effect on the opposite sex. I understand that. But believe me there is nothing erotic about an armpit that smells like a marathon runners arse crack. Honestly I have been on a bus, train or tube in the summer sometimes and the bloody place smells like a damned cattle truck. Please, you dirty soap dodgers take note. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. When you get up in the morning wash the stank from under your armpits with hot soapy water, dry with a clean towel and apply deodorant, anti-perspirant, disinfectant, bleach, drain cleaner, anything or if that is too difficult for you then please STOP USING PUBLIC TRANSPORT. We don't want to you smelly, anti-social bodies anywhere near us. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. That is what makes me mad. Aaarrrggghhh!!

Bloody Bus Drivers

I know you saw me running!

What is it with bus drivers these days? Is their job so boring that they have to have a little fun, baiting punters who are running for the bus? I am sure that there are some very nice, warm and compassionate bus drivers out there, who would fall over themselves trying to help members of the public. To those beautiful people I say "May your God bless and keep you". What I'm ranting about are the few who sit at the bus stop, making time because they are running a little early. You know what I mean. You see the bus waiting there; You start running; You think to yourself 'Oh what a nice driver, waiting there for me like that', but as you get about three bus lengths from the door, the bugger starts indicating and pulls out into the traffic. You know that he has seen you running in his wing mirror for Gods sake, they are as big as wardrobe doors, you would have to be blind not to see you running wouldn't you think? Or at least be that visually impaired that you shouldn't be in charge of a bus full of people. The driver knows, that you know, that they have seen you running and that you have seen that little smirk, play across their lips as they pull away and even if they are held up in traffic as you finally catch up, face purple, lungs threatening to burst out of your chest, eyes bulging, veins in your temples distended and throbbing, screaming like a dishevelled lunatic and banging on the door as people pass by and gawp in disbelief. They still won't even look at you or acknowledge that you are there. At least until they drive off, when they just barely glance aside and smirk again. That is what makes me mad. Arrrrgggghhhh!!!!!