The Dissemination of Thought

Just because it's in print doesn't mean it's intelligent…

Posts Tagged ‘public transport

Chivalry, a dirty nappy and the peak hour traveller that wasn’t happy

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I’ve guest written a piece today for Magnificent Nose entitled ”Chivalry and the Shifting Goal Posts”. Funnily enough, it’s about chivalry, but it’s also got an angry woman on a bus and a sentence that concludes with “makeshift nappy for an infant with explosive diarrhoea.” How can you not be intrigued?

To tempt you with the toxic fruit of my mind, here’s a little glimpse behind the curtain:

No one wants to watch the early morning news story about an overnight murder and have to ask themselves, “Was that dismembered corpse floating in the river my date?” Gentlemen, nothing makes a more negative impression on your potential bed mate than her getting mugged while walking home alone, purely because you were too lazy to accompany her for the 600m journey back to her apartment. The only thing that will make this worse is if you refused to do so because the pub was still serving $5 pints, or because you wanted to see what happened in extra time. Should you do so, the only time you will ever see her again is if you catch her slashing your tyres or setting fire to your mailbox.

I know you want to keep reading this article, so click here to jump across to Magnificent Nose; if you don’t, they will beat me and I’ll cry like a 2-year-old girl. You really, really don’t want to see me crying and throwing a hissy fit.

Source of original photograph: honeyhype.com

Why I wanted to throw an Oompa-Loompa off a moving ferry: blogging from the BlackBerry

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Public transport. It’s a never-ending source of depraved curiosity, bewilderment and material. If my travels don’t find me perplexed by the riddle of the ring, it seems like I’m perpetually pondering blasé parenting. I know, I’ve got a bit of an alliteration thing going on at the moment. Honestly, a solid week riding on the trains, buses and ferries could yield enough material for a year’s worth of TDoT posts. There’s a chance that it would also yield any number of genital-specific diseases, but I digress.

Why do parents think their spawn are not only bonsai geniuses, but that they are the most delightfully amusing munchkins on the planet? Furthermore, what drugs are they taking to nurture the delusion that the rest of us want to be subjected to Johnny reciting the alphabet on the bus, or little Barbeigh (yeah, like the doll, only cooler) running from one end of the train carriage to the other? Not only is Johnny in all probability as dumb as a post, he’s also as annoying as fuck. Put a leash on him or something.

On my ferry ride home this afternoon, I was accosted by four little darlings screaming and arguing. When they weren’t galloping around the cabin, they insisted on testing the trampoline-like qualities of the seats. A cessation of this behaviour only signalled that it was time for them to question their parents about why they hadn’t received a new toy in the last three minutes. At the top of their voices. Once the interrogation was over, the Oompa-Loompa wannabes resumed pulling each other’s hair and running the Tour de Ferry.

What did the parents do while the fruit of their loins were unleashing commuting Armageddon? Nothing. They chatted, played with their mobile phones and, unless I’m completely mistaken, seemed to take great joy in watching the bambinos entertain the other passengers. No, I don’t find your kid’s off-key caroling soothing – I’m trying to determine how harshly society would judge me for throwing a five-year-old off the stern of a moving vessel.

Given that I’m devoid of any paternal instinct whatsoever, one could assume that my Grinch-like complaint was unfounded and purely the result of not being very cherub friendly. But it wasn’t just me. Upon assessing the facial expressions of my fellow commuters, it was clear that I wasn’t the only one wanting to jettison minors. Had I followed through with my plan, I guarantee that I would have had to take a number and wait in line, a la a suburban delicatessen.

Can someone please explain to me why most parents believe that their progeny running riot in public and pissing everyone else off is adorable?

His parents will never understand why you want to murder him.  Source: blog.southeastpsych.com

His parents will never understand why you want to murder him. Source: blog.southeastpsych.com

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry on my BlackBerry Bold 9700

How to ensure that you never have to sit beside someone on the bus again

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If, like me, you utilise public transport to get you where you need to go, you understand the joy that a vacant adjacent seat brings. That feeling that comes knowing you won’t have to spend your journey sitting beside someone who believes that regular bathing is so 90s. The warming of your cockles when you realise that the dickhead who feels compelled to read the broadsheet newspaper during peak hour has decided not to take refuge next to you. That smug contentment that can only be achieved by convincing other commuters that sitting beside you would be a poor idea.

I must admit, I never really have a problem with people wanting to sit beside me: as a 6’5″ giant who is – as someone once eloquently put it – “two and a half pick handles across”, folks generally tend to avoid sitting beside me at all costs. Even if it means standing up for the trip and gazing longingly at the vacant seat beside me, much to my narcissistic mirth.

If you don’t have the physical characteristics – and some would suggest sociopathic disposition – to persuade other travellers that you’re a corporate version of Michael Myers, there are options to ensure that the seat beside you remains empty for the rest of your travelling days.

See, it works every time.

Strategy 1 – Be smellier than anyone who may attempt to sit beside you

This is a strong hand to play, as it requires you to potentially be more olfactorily offensive than the wannabe hippie who just got on. While this method may guarantee you peaceful passage to work, it’s also more than likely to also be catalyst for your impromptu meeting with HR upon arriving at the office.

For beginners, I suggest bluffing: as someone approaches for ass position beside you, take a whiff under your arms and feign mortified disgust.

Strategy 2 – Talk to yourself

By engaging in meaningful dialogue with yourself, you will give the masses a reason to avoid you. If you really want to ramp it up, try arguing with yourself, and be sure to include “I hate it when you try to tell you that you’re right, and you have to stop trying to convince us that our opinion is always wrong!” For added effect, turn your head to the left for one side of the conversation, and reverse when playing the other you.

Strategy 3 – Use the odd profanity

"Do you want to...VAGINA...sit here?" Source: fattita.tumblr.com

I’m not talking about going old-school sailor for the duration of your journey, I’m   advocating sitting in silence while looking straight ahead, occasionally blurting out a random “cock” or “clitoris”.  For Deuce Bigalow fans, you may wish to embrace bellowing “vulva”.

Author’s note: I’m writing this piece en route to Toowoomba, and I’ve just discovered that “clitoris” isn’t in the dictionary in my BlackBerry. How odd.

 

 

Strategy 4 – Scratch yourself constantly

No one likes a scratcher.  That person who continually attempts to scrape off the first few dermal layers, regardless of their surroundings, in order to try and ease the itch.  As such, my hypothesis is that no sane individual would make a concerted attempt to sit beside the aforementioned. The result?  You, ogling the fabric on the vacant seat beside you for the remainder of your trip.

If you really want to get into character for the charade, you can sprinkle itching powder onto strategic locations, including your head and nether regions.  I guess that you could always catch something of which incessant scratching and a rash are indications of, but as per Strategy 1, this may be a little dramatic.

Strategy 5 – Lick the window closest to you 

This one is pretty self-explanatory: who the fuck wants to sit beside someone who passes their time on public transport by running their tongue over glass that has had tens of thousands of dirty, sweaty heads, arms and miscellaneous body parts lean against it?

A vacant seat: no lightsaber required. Source: starwars.wikia.com

Written by disseminatedthought

December 4, 2011 at 15:49