A Gentle Word On Etiquette

Hokay. Enough of that crap.
The last comment box threatened to turn this blog into a fucking sewing circle.
Sweet cheeses of Nazareth; the next thing you know photos of kittens will start appearing here.

Because I'm stupidly busy today and have no time to trawl my Profanisaurus for inspiration I shall resort to rehashing old crap from the early years of the blog.

THIS is how we post kittie photos over here …

And this is what happens when the sewing circle takes over my comments box while I'm asleep.

Don't do it again!

Right …
Time for Dive - the seven hour a day commuter - to update my old rant about how to behave on trains.

Jean-Paul Sartre was right: "L'enfer, c'est les autres".

In the mornings, les autres (my fellow long-distance commuters) generally behave themselves pretty well, slumped in their seats, mouths agape, peacefully drooling; the only disturbance being the occasional grunt or snort.

The unfortunate exception to this is the smegging school holidays, when we are joined by family groups on their way to the airport, bickering couples and their snotty, screaming kids, running up and down the aisles and clambering over the seats, kids and adults alike shouting, shrieking and arguing while they let their babies cry at pain-inducing decibels for the entire journey.
Add to that groups of twenty-somethings laden with rucksacks and drinking beer at six in the morning while they shout and laugh at the tops of their voices.
People who have to get up at 4:40AM every morning and who need to catch up on their lost sleep on the train can get exceedingly grumpy during the school holidays.
Be warned.

But most of the time the mornings are not too bad.

In the evenings, however, the carriages resemble the hellish offspring of a drunken hen night and a football riot.
So if you noisy bastards don't want one of us mild-mannered but burly six-footers going postal and spoiling your day in a terminal way, let's lay down a few ground rules:

Now … heads up, mobile phone users. If you don't want to be wearing that thing up your arse, here's a little piece of advice (this is best read slowly and clearly, as if to a small child):

• First up: the concept of the "telephone":
If you speak into your "telephone", the person you're connected to can hear your voice coming out of their "telephone". Just because they may be miles away doesn't mean you have to SHOUT to make them hear you.

Related to this point: If you cannot hear them clearly over the noise of the train, SHOUTING at them is unlikely to resolve the problem.
They will, in all likelihood, be holding their phone at arms length because you're so fucking LOUD!
It also causes other mobile users around you to stick a finger in their ear and raise their own voices, and is therefore counterproductive.
It may also result in a painful visit to the colo-rectal department of your local hospital to facilitate the removal of your phone from its rightful position.

The urge to TALK LOUDLY if you cannot hear somebody else speaking is caused by "Basic Stupidity".
We now move on to "Advanced Stupidity".

• "Hi. It's me. I'm on the train".
Whoever is waiting for you at the end of your journey (and one day it might be me, with a nasty headache and a baseball bat), you need only call them if you MISS the train, or if it breaks down.
Are you and your partner really so insecure and pathetic that you need to be constantly reassured that either one of you isn't fucking their way through the telephone book whenever you are more than ten feet apart?
I mean you've not shut your fucking mouth for the past three hours shouting asinine drivel and driving your fellow commuters into a murderous rage; what the smeg is there left to talk about when you get home?
Oh, of course … You don't talk when you're together, you simply sit on your fat arses in front of the fucking television while your brains dribble out through your ears and you stuff your balloon faces with deep fried lardy gristle from a bucket.
Get a life, you fucking morons!

So that's "Basic" and "Advanced" stupidity dealt with; "Postgraduate Stupidity" includes the following:

• The constant, repetitive and loud barking of the word "Yeah" merely informs those around you that you are a low grade moron who would lose a battle of wits with a lump of polystyrene packaging.
Stop it, you ignorant fucking bastards!

• Using your inane laugh - like an asthmatic donkey being repeatedly kicked in the lungs - as punctuation when you speak merely highlights the fact that the tedious drivel spewing from your mouth does SO not justify your whinnying cackle at the end of every boring sentence.
If you were that funny, we would all be laughing.
Look around you.
We are not …

• "Tarquin? Hi! … Yah … Yah … uhuhuhuh … Yah … Um, look. I need to go through my emails with Sally … yah … uhuhuh … yah … yah …" etc ad nauseam.
Look, you worthless piece of shit: if you are not good enough at your job to do it in office hours then get off my fucking train and go stack shelves at Tesco for a living.

• The same thing goes for Blackberries.
Look at the stupid thing. It's only a few inches wide.
So why in God's name do you need to stick your fucking elbows halfway across your neighbour's seats when you use it?
Tuck those bony bastards down at your sides, you inconsiderate twat!
Here's a hint: Jamming your elbow into somebody's ribcage and then flicking your fucking thumbs like an onanist plugged in to an electric socket is not going to earn you the respect of the person sitting next to you.
It might, however, earn you a well-deserved smack in the mouth.
Cease. Desist. Or I may make your dentist very happy.

• In the thousands of train journeys I have suffered since the dawn of mobile technology, I could count on the fingers of one hand the words I have heard bellowed into phones that actually needed to be said. THINK before letting a carriage full of annoyed people know how utterly worthless your life is and how fucking BORING you are.

• Another brief piece of advice: If you're not on the train but are actually with me and we are talking face to face and your phone rings … don't you dare answer that fucker.
If you are so mind-buggeringly crass and rude as to pick it up and start yapping into it please do not wonder why I wander off to find somebody who is actually worth talking to.

• Your ringtone is neither cool nor amusing.

In conclusion:
Mobile users: Shut the fuck up!