Rush hour...

I am meant for better things than public transport.

I've started walking to work again, mainly to shift some lard off my arse but also because there's a man who gets on the bus in the morning and he's like Dom Jolly. It's not good for my blood pressure.

By the time I get to work I want to gouge his eyes out with a rusty spoon. Not only does he talk in a very loud voice... he talks at the person on the other end, so much so that I'm not sure if there is anyone actually on the other end. Maybe that he's dictating shit to himself. Whatever he's doing... I can't bear it any more. He's foreign so I have no idea what he's saying but spent the journey to work today giving him the Paddington hard stare while considering whether I'd get done if I took a pair of scissors with me and chopped the wire on his monster headphones!

Time to get off the bus! The walk to work is much less stressful and not likely to result in a punch up.

I'm not a morning person... can you tell?!

When you want to move somebody, you have to say to yourself: 'I'm in the emotional transportation business. I gotta move them, emotionally.'
Peter Guber