Trains, Planes, and Arseholes...

I guess with the amount of travel I do, one is bound to bump into the occasional freak or arsehole along the way...but I seem to be becoming an freak-and-arsehole-magnet of late.

A few weeks ago, I was taking the train to Bern, in Switzerland. On the way down to Switzerland, there was a lady sitting across the aisle from me with her 3 children. Nothing strange so far. The two eldest were her daughters, and they seemed to behave like normal sisters...playing together, fighting, playing, fighting. The son - who I think was around 3 years old - was being a normal son by playing with cars, etc. What was distinctly abnormal was that this kid, who could already talk, was still being breast fed by his mother (wierder would have been by his father...but he wasn't there). Now, I am sorry, but if you are old enough to ask for it, then it's time to ween the litte bastard. And surely if he is old enough to ask for it, then he should ask for it, rather than trying to latch on through her jumper! FREAKS!

Once we crossed the border into Switzerland, a new freak jumped into the train with us. I have no idea what language this guy spoke, but I am sure that it wasn't French, Italian, or German. But that didn't really matter too much, as he only really spoke to himself...and a lot.
He had also brought a big f' off loaf of bread on the train with him, and proceeded to eat this out of the paper bag for the rest of the journey. That wouldn't have been too bad, if I couldn't literally hear the complete inner workings of his salival system while he was doing it. Made me wanna boff. FREAK!

On Friday I was catching the train to the airport in Norway. I had got on at the first stop, so had a pleasant few minutes in the train to read my book etc. After a few stops, this choad gets on, and chooses the seat behind me. He then proceeds, for the rest of the 1hr journey to the airport, to drive his knees into the back of my chair every 60 seconds or so. ARSE!

Good news was that I didn't notice him for much of the last part of the journey. Why? Well, this other arse-hat (borrowed from Josh) sits next to me with his roll-on suitcase and his laptop bag. It appears that he has lost something (not just his manners or his mind), so proceeds to rifle through his suitcase and bags at least 5 times each, if not more. This would not normally be a problem either, if he didn't keep elbowing me the whole time, putting his suitcase back on the floor on top of my foot, and slamming said suitcase into my shins repetitively. ARSE-HAT!

Then I lost the arm-rest battle with the guy next to me in the plane, but luckily he decided to move seats to get some more ball-room somewhere else.

Maybe I am just to sensitive.

Tschüß,
'Brush