Think my train hit a bird this morning on the way into Waterloo. Either that or a pillow. With jam in it. Not sure which is more likely.
Saw a guy with so much toothpaste around his mouth that he looked more like a fully made-up clown who had missed a bit.
Waterloo stunk of faeces this morning. I thought you weren’t supposed to flush the toilets whilst the train is in a station? I don’t make the rules. Who poos on a train anyway?
I’m noticing that many of my posts are train-related. Given the amount of time I spend on them I guess it’s understandable. Doesn’t make it right though. You don’t see Wayne Rooney blogging about lawns.
I’ve been listening to the Ricky Gervais podcasts quite a lot lately. It’s made me want to team up with a very tall Bristolian and write an award-winning TV series. I’ll settle for the West Country though if Bristol is too specific. If you’re out there, get in touch.
There is currently a small group of ladybirds (correct collective noun for a group of ladybirds, anyone?) squatting in my bathroom. When I say squatting, I mean they’re living there without permission. They’re not crouching in unison. Anyway, whilst I initially found this quite charming, it has now become something of an annoyance. Nobody needs a small, spotty beetle flying around their head when they’re trying to put a contact lens in their eye. I might kick them all in the teeth.
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