Is it just me or does anyone else have issues about sitting in close proximity to people on the bus? If it isn’t just me then I’d be very worried. At the moment, my major issue is with students on small buses. I seem to dislike them even more than the hideous creatures that get on my public bus home which is full of shell suit wearing abusive minks who bellow and gob on you at every opportunity. Trying out the ‘free’ student transport in favour of the extortionate public transport, myself and Straight Man A found ourselves on a bus to hell. When you feel like you are going to pass out at any given opportunity, the worst thing to do is get on a bus with a capacity of 16 but which is currently transporting around 60. Having managed to squeeze into a seat before all The first years piled on with fists and sweaty faces bouncing up and down, we thought we’d be ok. I should have realised it was a mistake, in the shape I was in, the only place I should have been in was a vast open field with not a person around for a 5 mile radius. We were squished in tighter that a fist in a fanny and no matter what direction I turned in I was faced with a student ass, or worse yet, an accentuated fanny that should not have been encased in grey wool. The smell was unbearable. Because of the fights to get 60 students on this tiny bus when there were around 120 waiting to get on, it meant that all who were ‘lucky’ enough to fit their woolly asses on the bus were harassed and very salty. It didn’t make for a pleasant journey especially when the boys who couldn’t wait til the end of the 15 minutes ride (longest they will ever get) to scoff their egg and fish sandwiches. Even more smart when the windows don’t open and you’re surrounded by really loud Glaswegians who speak so loudly you’d be forgiven for thinking they were in competition for Gobbiest Cow Award 2002. I wouldn’t have cared so much had their ‘chat’ have been even slightly interesting. It was, however, oddly entertaining, listening to the new friends flatter and impress each other with gushes of ‘oh you don’t look 22’ (right enough you look 52) and ‘well I have been to London twice!’ (translated as ‘I have never left Scotland in my life’). It made me puke. And then, as though they have lived here all their foreign lives they bang on about how much they know about the Aberdeen nightlife. If they had really lived here for more than a week they would know that Aberdeen doesn’t have a nightlife. And neither is the Palace ‘hard to get out of alive’. If my campest poof mates can go in the mosh pits in their designer shoes and primed hair and come out unscathed then believe me it can’t be scary in the slightest. What a pile of shit I tell you. And then they compare folders and pens and rulers and jotters. I swear by the time they reach second term they will have forgotten what any of these terms means. It made me wonder if I ever categorised my work when I arrived on Planet Campus. I’m pretty sure I never. Seeing as I can’t even remember a pen and paper or to even turn up on time, I’m pretty sure I was not one of them television presenter wannabes who swan around clutching their folders to their chests and swinging a tiny handbag around their heads. I’m also very sure that I never wrote each subject in a different coloured pen and I know for a fact that I have never used a highlighter in my life for any purpose other than drawing on sleeping people’s faces. It’s all so weird and no matter how much they dress themselves up as ‘intellectual business women’ and no matter how much lipstick and hair product they apply, the smell of first year students will not leave them for at least 9 months. So, they can stop spraying all that cheap animal tested perfume around their crotch area, have a good wash and brush those rancid teeth. Just cos mummy isn’t here, you still have to brush the decay and mould out of your teeth at least twice daily. At least that way they can disguise the fact that they are under perspirated first years. Oh and they could buy a bloody bag big enough to carry their cutesy pink folders and matching pencil cases in. Rant over.
Not being at work
People who leave comments
Slacks hanging down with a cool belt
Not seeing any 1st year students today
Clambering, if it ever happens.
Still feeling like a grey jobbie
People who pick and choose when they want you in their lives
Femme lesbos in baggy trousers
Lack of contact with certain people