Flex Your Head
Well-known member
I hate my commute in to work even though it’s only about 8 miles door-to-door, and when I finally get to my desk I hate about 90% of mankind too.
The timeline of my main peeves, irritations and hate-figures is as follows:
Car to station
• Prats who force their way up the narrow road expecting everyone else to pull in and let them pass.
• Prats who don’t acknowledge you pulling in for them
• Kids who wander across the road glaring at you in some weird new variant of ‘chicken’
• Prats who try to park at the side of the road and hold you up for aaaages whilst they struggle interminably to reverse into a space a bus could drive in to.
• Prats at the junction who won’t pull out unless they have a guaranteed 30 seconds in which to do so.
• Prats who are turning right but can’t position themselves properly so prevent anyone from turning left.
Station and train
• People who, as you walk further along the platform than them, glare at you as if you are pushing in.
• People who have phone conversations on the train and make no effort to talk discretely.
• The constant sniffer who is never more than 5 yards away.
• The pranny who insists on bringing their breakfast on to the train and slurps their coffee noisily, eats their croissant noisily and greedily, then flicks their crumbs on to your legs.
• The prat who sits next to you and believes that etiquette allows him to spread open his newspaper to read whilst leaving his forearm within an inch of your face.
• The dick who has ignored the regulations about bikes in rush hour and glares at everyone who gives him and his bike a ‘dark look’.
• Us, who do no more than give ‘dark looks’.
• Smelly people.
• People who believe it is acceptable to wander along the platform at the other end, engrossed in their kindle, Candy Crush, Facebook status or whatever, and get in the effing way of those of us who hate dawdlers.
• Tits who queue at the first ticket gate and cause a massive blockage despite their being 19 other empty ticket gates.
The walk to work.
• People thrusting crap I don’t want in to my hands.
• ********s in suits and trainers. Why, just why?
• People who believe it is acceptable to wander along the pavement at the other end, engrossed in their kindle, Candy Crush, Facebook status or whatever, and get in the effing way of those of us who hate dawdlers.
• Full kit wanker cyclists who treat every morning and evening as a stage of the Tour of Britain.
• People who jog to work. On some of the busiest pavements and roads in the country. In rush hour.
• Dawdlers. All of them. Except those with medical conditions.
• Tits who pull out massive golf umbrellas at the very first hint of drizzle.
• Couples, yes couples, arm-in-arm, with massive golf umbrellas in minor drizzle.
• Idiots who insist in talking very loudly in to their Blackberries so we can all hear how important they are.
I could go on and on and on…
Very jealous of those who work from home. Very jealous indeed.
The timeline of my main peeves, irritations and hate-figures is as follows:
Car to station
• Prats who force their way up the narrow road expecting everyone else to pull in and let them pass.
• Prats who don’t acknowledge you pulling in for them
• Kids who wander across the road glaring at you in some weird new variant of ‘chicken’
• Prats who try to park at the side of the road and hold you up for aaaages whilst they struggle interminably to reverse into a space a bus could drive in to.
• Prats at the junction who won’t pull out unless they have a guaranteed 30 seconds in which to do so.
• Prats who are turning right but can’t position themselves properly so prevent anyone from turning left.
Station and train
• People who, as you walk further along the platform than them, glare at you as if you are pushing in.
• People who have phone conversations on the train and make no effort to talk discretely.
• The constant sniffer who is never more than 5 yards away.
• The pranny who insists on bringing their breakfast on to the train and slurps their coffee noisily, eats their croissant noisily and greedily, then flicks their crumbs on to your legs.
• The prat who sits next to you and believes that etiquette allows him to spread open his newspaper to read whilst leaving his forearm within an inch of your face.
• The dick who has ignored the regulations about bikes in rush hour and glares at everyone who gives him and his bike a ‘dark look’.
• Us, who do no more than give ‘dark looks’.
• Smelly people.
• People who believe it is acceptable to wander along the platform at the other end, engrossed in their kindle, Candy Crush, Facebook status or whatever, and get in the effing way of those of us who hate dawdlers.
• Tits who queue at the first ticket gate and cause a massive blockage despite their being 19 other empty ticket gates.
The walk to work.
• People thrusting crap I don’t want in to my hands.
• ********s in suits and trainers. Why, just why?
• People who believe it is acceptable to wander along the pavement at the other end, engrossed in their kindle, Candy Crush, Facebook status or whatever, and get in the effing way of those of us who hate dawdlers.
• Full kit wanker cyclists who treat every morning and evening as a stage of the Tour of Britain.
• People who jog to work. On some of the busiest pavements and roads in the country. In rush hour.
• Dawdlers. All of them. Except those with medical conditions.
• Tits who pull out massive golf umbrellas at the very first hint of drizzle.
• Couples, yes couples, arm-in-arm, with massive golf umbrellas in minor drizzle.
• Idiots who insist in talking very loudly in to their Blackberries so we can all hear how important they are.
I could go on and on and on…
Very jealous of those who work from home. Very jealous indeed.
