Trains, buses and cool dudes.

I have a love/hate relationship with trains and buses. They can be exhilaratingly rad one time, then cock crunchingly boring the next.
The last trains home to where I grew up were usually fun – drunk posh married couples, angry people, happy people, sleeping people. And there wasn’t enough room to lift a finger. For fourty minutes twice a weekend, all those things culminated into a rarely bad time.
Namely, it was always fun meeting people from Berkhamsted and letting them know that my mum wrote a main column in their local paper about her kids.

“Yeah, I was the one who went streaking down the High Street on Harry Potter launch night/fell asleep on a train and woke up in Northampton/told my school careers advisor I wanted to study Journalism to write for a porn magazine”.



Anyway, so buses. Fucking buses.
Twice in the last week, TWICE, two strangers have met in the two seats in front of me, flirted unashamedly and ended up eating eachothers’ faces off by the end of the journey. Man, romance rules.
I should get buses more often.

Last week I went to a ‘free party in the woods’ up by the Univeristy of Sussex campus with some friends who were there to make some dollar by selling laughing gas.
I guessed there would be the rad-dudes-wanting-to-fuck-a-fresher-and-get-mashed-up-and-dance-then-punch-somebody vibe, but I still went with an open mind.

It was shit. It took me back to sitting on a metal fold up chair at youth centres around Buckinghamshire at school peoples’ discos having nobody to dance with, feeling twitchy with a tight spine I couldn’t shake off.
Maybe if I was on pills then I might have enjoyed it. MIGHT have. But I don’t do pills. Or have a flowing supply of glowsticks. Or wear a dumb hat.
That last one may or may not be true, but the point is this: the party was full of lame douches whose only aim of the night was to go back to their room and type in their Facebook status how ‘mental last nite waz’.

I ended up going back to my friend’s flat and talking shit/playing songs until sunlight.
That’s what I like.

In a bit.