Welcome to Grump Bag

Spunking in the face of society since 2008
Feel free to have a poke around the mind of a madman

Monday, 18 May 2009

Tube Journey

I was sitting down, waiting for the Tube pleasantly when some old bag started slurping noisily from her plastic tea flask. Slurping tea from a flask. What a fucking joke. I felt like pouring the contents of my Coke can over her fucking face. The last thing you need when the electronic board indicates you have six minutes to wait is some prune faced bitch slurping tea down her wrinkly neck. Studying her liver spotted face closer, I wondered if she'd ever slurped on a weighty portion of spunk, after suckling on a good ol meaty bone.

Then again, Did the older Generation ever suck on their boyfriends dicks? Popular culture would have you believe it was nothing but tea, scones, and standard missionary back then. Or perhaps i'm just being naive.

After enduring four more minutes spunk suckling audio in my ear, I got on to my train. Thankfully there was a seat. If there's anything worse than sitting on a tube for an extended period of time, then its standing on a tube for an extended period of time. Some fat tart sits down next to me, one of her fat talcum powdered ass cheeks pinning down the side of my Jacket.

With a strained effort I manage drag it back out from under her Ass, which is like trying to whip a tablecloth from underneath a Rhinoceros. What a fat fucking cunt. She was probably off to Sloane Square or something, given her expensive looking handbag and snooty looking face. You may be worth a few quid love, but your still a fat cunt. Can't even sit on the Tube without annexing an entire portion of somebody else's seat territory. Imperialism of public space.

I'm too busy staring at some sexy Italian looking bitch to realise we've already stopped at Earls court, and its time too change, so I just about manage to jump out as the doors make that beep- beep - beeping sound but my trailing leg gets caught awkwardly as I make my exit and I'm sent tumbling to the floor like a spasticated dinosaur, the sexy Italian bitch smirking in a discerning manner.

As I make my way to the next platform there's a man struggling to carry his pram down the stairs, and I feel compelled to help but i notice hes with some Malaysian girl so I cant be arsed with the pervert. He was smart enough to use the Internet to mail order a chinky girlfriend, so maybe he should have been shrewd enough to use the lift instead. Fucking prick.

The subsequent interconnecting journey is even more irritating than the spunk slurping granny as im flanked either side by German cunts, who feel the need spout deustch garbage directly into face as they attempt to communicate through me. Thier language is as ugly as a dog's arse, and it takes the fouth fleck of spit to wind me up to the extent that im forced to stand for the remaining half hour.

It was a good job I used my Dad's freedom pass, and therefore didnt have to pay for this journey, as the whole experience left me with a taste in my mouth like somebody had shitted there.