Dear Reader

Dear Reader,  Today I'm not writing to you as usual, today I am writing to a stranger...which come to think of it, you are too. Well now that we all know our place... Dear man standing next to me on the train, (Calm enough start you think, sure there's nothing to rant about here.  Well the bloody well is) Let me rephrase.  Dear old white man with large stomach standing somewhere between too close and BACK THE FUCK OFF distance from my face. At what stage in train etiquette proceedings did you feel this would be even marginally a good idea? It's buggeringly bad enough that I have to sit on a crowded train, on which there is fuck all air movement but now I have to deal with you leaning over me for eleventy billion hours as we make the rickety, cramped journey home.  At what stage in life did you forget about people's bubbles? Oh wonderful, now you're coughing, you've fucking trampled on my bubble and now you're coughing on it. Thanks a lot. ...

Dear Reader, I am officially a commuter, a grumpy, tired, stop stealing my seat and stay on your BLOODY SIDE...commuter. To be fair, I'm not grumpy really and we all know I never actually tell anyone to stay on their side, I'm quite small for such a huge wuss. It's more of loud internal monologue whereupon shouting occurs at random points. I'm sure that should you be able to tape it and play it back, it might make a rather good radio show. So as of last week my people watching has kicked up a notch, I'm in London now, way more people to watch here... However, what the BLOODY  HELL LONDON?! Do you have to sign a document before you live here saying that under no circumstances will you ever move out of the way?! I mean I'm all for sticking to your guns but this is ridiculous. The amount of people that have whacked straight into me when all it would have taken is a 3 degree shift to the left is quite maddening. And I tell you what's more, I'm so Br...