Further evidence of the general public being generally irritating.

After another installment of office mundanity i faced the ever daunting prospect of riding on a packed bus full of "other people" to get home.

Not too much to endure i suppose. People have been through worse. But it'd be so much easier if the bus was empty...........or was a taxi.......without the driver.

It certainly doesn't help matters when some obese fool thinks she defies gravity in some way and therefore doesn't need to hold onto the hand rail. Not surprisingly as soon as the bus set off again she hurled forward right into my chest, much to the amusement of the other passengers.

Sadly her friend thought further humiliation was due and quipped "She's fallen for you" prompting titters from several dildo headed passengers who somehow deemed it to be funny, when it was anything but.

It just doesnt make any sense. So i'm stood there, all twelve stone of me - which is about right for a 6,1" chap - balanced almost perfectly and holding the rail (albeit in an unorthadox fashion due to mild OCD) and somehow when an overweight idiot loses their balance i become the figure of ridicule. How does that work?

I'd like to think i'm dignified in my public falls. Humble, embarassed and apologetic but no doubt if i tried to crack jokes and revel in the limelight like some over bearing tit, i'd be jeered by a set of non plussed passengers and ordered to get off at the next stop by the driver.

But i suppose titheads love a tithead.

The 63: stopping at - Depression Drive, Anguish Avenue & Tedium Terrace

2009.

If old sci-fi films were anything to go by then we'd all be driving round in flying cars and have robot butlers taking care of our every need.

Maybe scientists/engineers etc got lazy somewhere down the line, but at present these wonders seem a world away. In fact reality seems almost stoneage in comparison, public transport being one of the best examples.

After doing this to my car.....



..I'm now forced to travel to work on the 63. And not the Apollo 63. Just a fucking awful bus.

Never before has travelling to work been more depressing. In as little as 3 weeks i've experienced all the usual cliches. Twats who will stand at a bus stop for 15 minutes and then be taken by surprise when it arrives and be unable to locate any money. The general low budget feel when you look down the aisle and see the frayed mish mash upholstery littered with used tickets etc. Fearing that the horrorshow passenger that has just got on, will sit next to you. Wondering what kind of horrors have previously occupied the seat your in. Deafening yourself with your MP3 to drown out the inane schoolgirl babble all around you. Getting seated on the "engine seat" thus being subjected to a ridiculous back massage every time the bus pulls over. The genuine sense of hatred that builds up every time someone flags the bus over because they're slowing you down. uuuhhhhhrrrrrrrr

During the first week of my reunion with public transport, i bought a return ticket to avoid unnecessary tedious interaction with the driver on the return journey. This flawless plan was however ruined by a momentary lapse in sanity when i put the ticket in the used tickets box as i got off. The humiliation had only just begun...

This week i suffered the further indignity of running to catch the bus but failing miserably and seeing it ride off into the sunset. I was then forced to run around the back of Tesco to make it look like i wasn't actually running for the bus, in a bid to save face.

Wii are not amused...or at least, i'm not.

"I asked my son what he wanted for christmas and he said he wants a wii...

... i said you know where the toilet is"

Having to hear the above joke an obscene amount of times at work courtesy of a cretinous colleague isn't the only thing that riles me about the wii, It goes much deeper than that.

Cringeworthy adverts with the Redknapp family playing mariokart cause maximum distress. Presumably they're meant to portray a heartwarming family moment but they're just plain embarassing. I hope never to find myself in a situation where i utter the words "that's a spin attack coming your way Dad" I'm not sure hearing Louise announce "i love beating you" is in any way neccesary either. The only redeeming aspect is that one of the fitness games labels Jamie a "casual athelete" - one look at his career appearance stats confirms that.

It's a mystery why everyone seems hell bent on replacing actual activities with virtual bullshit. Deluded idiots who think theyre going to "get buff" simply by arsing around with the wii would do better getting a grip on reality rather than a joypad. Once the novelty wears off and they realise that - actually this isn't anything like real bowling/tennis/skiing/angling/etc, it will be thrown in the attic with the cross trainer (and fuck knows what else) and they will no doubt revert to their favourite excercises - watching TV, eating, drinking and wanking......simultaneously.

All too often my protests are countered by claims that "it's good family fun" or "a good laugh when you have a party" but it just isn't. The appeal of Guitar Hero in particular is mindbending. I thought "air guitar" was embarassing but at least there's no cost involved. It's saying something when the cast of the DFS Nickelback advert have got one up on you.

What makes it all the more baffling is the fact that you could buy a real guitar for the same price and actually achieve something. But wheres the fun in learning chords scales etc when you could just mash your fingers off 5 different coloured buttons like the massive talentless dildo head that you really are? Surely it's only a matter of time before it comes complete with a set of inflatable groupies with coloured coded tits, etc to help otherwise clueless cunts navigate their way around.

If you can't be arsed learning an instrument, chances are your equally non plussed by the prospect of going to acting classes. Fear not though because the game "You're in the movies" provides the perfect alternative. If the advert is anything to go by then the pinnacle of great cinema and fun is running on the spot while being chased by the most unconvincing of aliens. In it's defence it still looks better than being in any Will Ferrel film (and yes i am including "semi pro").

Finally the woeful DS advert in which Ronan Keating struggles to solve basic brain teasers deserves a mention. Its a shame i can't train my brain to switch off when shite adverts appear on screen.

T-Shirts...........The T Standing For Tosser

Mr Noisy, Mr Bump, Mr Tickle, Mr bell end who's more than happy to go along with the latest "ironic" craze, Mr scene following Cretin, Mr i've still got my Leeds wristband on from 1000BC, therefore i'm the coolest dude in all the land, Mr i chose this one because it's the one that represents my character most accurately.

etc.

A Semi Self Inflicted Awkward Moment

Sunday. The day of rest. Or as yesterday proved, the day of being made to feel like an absolute bell end for feasting on low budget cuisine.

Halfway through wrapping some christmas presents in my room, i decided to get some dinner. Due to my limited culinary skills i found myself once again torn between a pot noodle and a bacon sandwich. After a lot of soul searching i opted for the former and with a little help from the illustrations on the side of the packaging i was back in my room and ready to "chow down" within a few minutes.

After splashing soy sauce on the wrapping paper i thought better than to multi-task and so left the present wrapping until i'd finished the nutricious snack. I was now sat cross legged in the middle of my room with the door closed eating a pot noodle. There's no denying what a pathetic scene it was but who cares, nobody could see me.

That care free attitude lasted all of 2 minutes when suddenly the window cleaner appeared. I'd not experienced embarassment like it since viewing a 30 second snippet of the latest Nicholas Lyndhurst "comedy". Why he was working on a Sunday still gets me.

Darting out of the room didn't seem appropriate at the time and so i found myself adopting a sort of statue like stillness as if confronted by a T-Rex in Jurassic Park. Though rather than quaking at the prospect of being eaten alive i was instead terrified that the man may try to force some kind of interaction, perhaps by tapping on the glass and saying something like "having your dinner?" or "I like the beef ones"

Having suddenly became an exhibit in a museum of tedium, there was little i could do but watch my dignity fly out of the very window he was cleaning. Given that he's probably caught a glimpse of far more exciting things over the years i felt like a bit of a let down and couldnt help but think that i'd later be ridiculed by him when he challenges his family to "guess what i saw at work today"

After what seemed like an eternity he eventually climbed back down his ladder and the ordeal was over. I can't help but feel that we both came away thinking "oh well at least i'm not him"

The Arsehole’s Guide To Grocery Shopping

Select a trolley upon your arrival at the supermarket and then proceed to fill it with the following items......

Little Britain DVD

Hard house trance rave mash up Nation CD

Microchips (big bag)

VK Ice x 8

WKD x 24

Sidekick x 8

Rustler Burgers x 4

Microwave curry x 4

Allday Breakfast in a can x 8

Nuts magazine

The Daily Star

etc.

A few other helpful tips

If you find the shopping experience tired and mundane then why not provide your own soundtrack to make it a bit more tolerable? Take out your mobile phone and play the latest 50 Cent "tune" with the volume set to maximum. This will allow as many shoppers as possible to be serenaded by the mumbling hip hop genius.

Make sure you walk around as slowly as possible. Especially when there are people trying to get past you. You might like to angle your trolley in such a fashion that it causes gridlock in the aisles.

You may wish to shop with a friend. If so, why not walk around reminiscing about the finer moments of your life? Like the time you couldnt find a Johnny round Chantelle's house and had to use a Mars bar wrapper instead. Or you could choose to debate which past holiday with "the lads" was best. Faliraki 2002 or Craig's stag weekend in Ibiza.....the one where everyone got Herpes off the rep.

Make a profound statement about politics and wow fellow shoppers with your extensive knowledge of current affairs. "We only went to war for the oil" always goes down well. Or you could try "Gordon Brown innit"

If the unthinkable happens and your son tries to place Weetabix in the trolley on the sly, you are best advised to create a scene. Call him an arsehole. Scream at him. Snatch the box of Weetabix out of his hands and shout "i'm not fucking Rockafeller" then replace the offending article with a box of Wheat 48 bisks. Be sure to quiz any onlookers about what theyre looking at.

Presuming on this occasion your not shoplifting make your way to the checkout. Once there, be sure to purchase a tenners worth of scratchcards and ask for a minimum of £50 cashback. Blow this money in the bookies later, then moan to anybody who will listen that your so skint and it's all because of the "credit crunch"

You massive anus.

There's probably a scientific word for it.

Hopefully i'm not alone in this but every now and then i find myself on the verge of carrying out an extremely illogical act only to then stop and think "what the fuck am i doing?" Far from being a new sensation, it's been happening infrequently for years. However recently i've became alarmed by the rate of these occurances.
last week there were 3 episodes.

1. After pouring milk on my malted wheaties (a poor man's shreddies) i proceeded to take a knife and fork out of the cutlery drawer before realising that i had overlooked the traditional spoon.

2. Having taken off my shoes, i then opened the fridge. After a long pause i realised that a fridge is no place for shoes.

3. While simultaneously preparing sandwiches and making a cup of tea i motioned to drop a slice of salami in the cup before realising my glaring error.

It's almost as if i'm wrestling with a split personality. An evil half out to ridicule me but i keep catching him in the act.