Monday night musings.

My legs ache. Probably from yesterday's paintballing fun. You know, from all the running, jumping, crouching and such. I'm finding it difficult to climb up or down stairs. Pain just shoots up from below my waist and above my knees. But it's good pain. Satisfying pain. Don't ask me why.

Earlier today, there was a whiney bitch on the bus from uni. As people boarded at the City Road gates, she shouted at the bus driver not to let any more on because there were more than fifteen people standing, despite the bus being licenced to carry twenty-three standing. And I'm pretty sure that the fifteen-standing limit is only advisory and up to the driver's discretion. She whined all the way to Railway Square, all the while being jeered by other passengers and then claiming the right to free speech (which she doesn't technically have due to the lack of a Bill of Rights in this country).

By the time we'd arrived at Railway Square, the bus driver had had enough and kicked her off. She wouldn't leave. He called the police. She demanded her fare back. More jeering. She called the rest of the passengers cunts. Then she finally left. Bitch.

And Pat asked me what my thoughts on hairy arses were. I can't for the life of me remember why that came up. I told him what I thought and that I'd never really come across a bad case of arse hair. And he looked somewhat the wiser for it. Strange.


Listening to:
Title: This Old Love
Artist: Lior
Album/station: Autumn Flow (2004)
Length: 3.03