Hymn

Normal Service

"There are currently severe delays on the Victoria, District and Circle, Bakerloo and Piccadilly  lines.  The Hammersmith and City line is operating a reduced service.  The Central line is suspended between Ealing Broadway and Woodford.  There are minor delays on the Jubilee, Metropolitan and Northern lines.

"There is a good service on all other lines."

Another day down the tube.

Stupid Sh*t

I am walking to the station.  I receive a text message on my phone and start to reply. 

At the sixth letter a bird craps on my shoulder. 

On the eleventh, I walk Buster Keaton-like into a lamppost. 

Thankfully it is early.  There is no one around.  My buffonery remains a secret.

Four by For Goodness Sake

Okay, so I understand you have a lot of money. And this is a statement. The big car. Much, much larger than you can really justify. But not really that much safer, is it? And do you really need to be that high up? Because it clearly hasn't improved your driving. And definitely not your parking. But then I guess taking up two spaces is your right because you have a lot of money, right?

Of course now you're smug that you have a 4x4 and the weather is atrocious. And you try to justify you ostentatious monster with the three days of icy roads we suffer each year. Except you still have no idea how to drive. And the snow really isn't helping is it? Or is it that you just don't like it getting dirty?

Oh yes, you're making a statement. It's very clear. And when the revolution comes...

And breathe...

Snow Season

I like to think that I perform some useful social functions.  But then I like to think a lot of things.

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, given the snow :  turn the car around, grit the path.  That I happened to be naked apart from my dressing gown at quarter past eight in the evening and was paddling around the slush seemed neither here or there.

Naturally, the girl from next door took that moment to look out for her boyfriend.  She saw me apparently sprinkling table salt on my Doctor Who slippers.

I waved cheerfully. 

She called her mum to the window.  Then her dad.  Soon her little sister was there too.  They waved back a little nervously.  Then laughed in unison. 

I am The Crazy Man from 213.