Soo...Monday morning and the bus is late. Again. Which is fine. I get on it, part with 16 quid and the driver turns the engine off. Obviously. He phones HQ who clearly dont give a shit that yet another bus has broken down. They must have a bloke whose job it is to keep his mate in the repair department busy. Next bus 40 mins. Fan bloody tastic....

The 37 bus. Sooooo pissed off with it I don't know where to start. So I won't. That is all.

Love going on the bus I do. Not only is it late and I had to listen a mad Doris about how she loves travelling on various buses all bleeding day especially as she does not have to pay for her tickets. Which is priceless. So it arrives full and we are stuck in traffic watching the same set of lights change 50 million times. Why are we stuck?Because another badly maintained bloody arriva bus has broken down. Perhaps they should stop spending money on useless electronic bus nav signs that don't actually tell you anything, in particular the new one in wooburn that faces the wrong way. Magic that. To cap it off all the passengers from the broken down pile of shite are pouring on. Yup, love it I do...

Holy shit Fenton, it's bloody freezing waiting for a bus when you've got a load of no hair...

I cannot begin to explain the euphoria and inner warmth on this cold winters night, of watching a steady stream of buses, pull up and see husbands going home to their new borns, wives going home with the Xmas presents, school kids jumping on, rushing to get home to a warm home cooked tea. I could sit here all night. Well, in fact I am. It's so lovely its hard to describe, mainly because my hands cold and my fingers are numbing. Quite lonely though, there's only me and the road sweeper on community service. Which is nice..