by Brittany Geragotelis
Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and she's taking on the commuters of NYC. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.
My commute to and from work is a hotbed of material. In a nutshell, en masse, people are idiots. Shove them into mini canisters (a.k.a. a subway car) and chaos will ensue. Here are just a few observations that delighted me this week:
Once a week, my guest blogger (who shall remain nameless...okay, not nameless...let's call her Ms. Sassy Pants. Sassy for short) stops by to share all the things in her life that deserve a big, fat DELETE. Anyhoo, her majesty is back and she's taking on the commuters of NYC. Check out what she had to say and then come up with a few DELETES of your own.
My commute to and from work is a hotbed of material. In a nutshell, en masse, people are idiots. Shove them into mini canisters (a.k.a. a subway car) and chaos will ensue. Here are just a few observations that delighted me this week:
If you're sick, stay home. Hacking up a lung and spraying spittle all over the joint during your morning commute is not a sign of how dedicated you are to your job, it's a sign you're a douchebag for subjecting me to your mutant virus. DELETE!
Allowing your children to swing from the poles or use the seat as a place for them to lie down. Newsflash, this isn't a fu@king playground or your bedroom. DELETE!
To "parents" (if that's what you want to call them) who fail to teach their children proper etiquette and allow them to run around like little Gremlins. Loved the movie, not the reality...DELETE!
Squishing your fat ass into a space that's too small...your lack of spacial judgment is your prerogative, however subjecting me to enduring the weight of one of your ass cheeks is mine. Get off me Jabba. DELETE!
Over-sized bags or backpacks. Rule of thumb, if your bag takes up half the space you do it's too big. I really don't need to be knocked down by your gym bag—the emanating smell is bad enough—but slamming your parcel into my gut will get you gutted. DELETE!
Step into the train instead of gathering by the door like cattle...but I suppose if you're going to act like an animal you should be treated like one. DELETE!
If I can hear "Baby Got Back" pouring out of your headphones, baby...you need to get back. DELETE!
Ah...happy trails kiddies.
5x5,
B.
5x5,
B.
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