The mind of a madmaN

I haven't done my blog thing lately. O crap. People are going to think I'm not funny anymore. I'd better be hilarious. Hardcore hilarious. So...I've started riding the public transportation system recently. What sick mind invented this thing? It's always named something cute too, like "Cat Bus," or in my case, "Wolf Line." It isn't cute though. It's awkward. Damn awkward. After if gets to your stop 15 minutes late, you're forced to cram into what i call a "half-a-cheek" seat, on either side of the bus. Here comes the most awkward part of the trip. Pay attention. Everyone is thinking the exact same thing: Where am I supposed to look? For some reason, our natural instincts tell us to look toward the front of the bus. "That's how real cars work," our minds say. Then a feeling of silliness comes over us. "Why am I bending my head to look toward the front? What the hell is wrong with me?" So we turn and look to the sides of the bus, a more natural position, logic says. Big mistake. This is when we make eye contact with the guy with a shirt on that illustrates an endangered animal getting ripped apart by killer tarantulas or something. He's already sweating like a fat man at a Thong Clinic, and its only 8:30 am. Then the next stop comes, and so many people get on, that you don't have to worry about awkward glances anymore, because you've got some guy's crotch in your face because he has to stand. The worst part about the entire endeavor is that it never comes on time. "Every ten minutes" in bus lingo, means every 28 minutes to real world folk. I'm going to have to start law breaking and park in illegal spaces if I want to be on time, comfortable with myself and my decisions, and not smell like a foot. F you, system. go texas.