Dear Fellow Passengers of the 135,
As Chuck Klosterman eloquently described in this Esquire piece from 2004, every man needs both a nemesis and an archenemy. While both of these are your rivals, you have an affinity for your nemesis and would lose a little bit of yourself if something were to happen to him or her. However, your archenemy is the person that, if you saw him or her engulfed in flames, you would stand around laughing and the only thing you would do is drop your pants and urinate on their still-smoldering corpse.
But what does that have to do with you, my dear fellow passengers of the 135?
It's easy: Every single one of you is my archenemy.
The profound and baffling inability of each and every one of you to figure out how to ride a bus has caused you to become my collective archenemy. Every time I board the 135, I wonder what manner of complete and utter failure as human beings you've cooked up today.
Perhaps this confuses you, and you don't understand why one of your fellow passengers should have this sort of hatred for you. After all, it's just riding the bus, how can you screw that up? Which is the same question I have for you: How can you fucking screw up riding the damn bus? How is it possible that you don't know that you should sit down if there are seats available, or that leaning against the doors is a bad idea, or that maybe you shouldn't let you fucking dog hump the other passengers' legs?
Now, it is pretty obvious that the entire world would be a better place if the 135 just happened to crash and burst into flames, killing everyone on board. Unfortunately, this is not a viable option due to the fact that I might happen to be on it at the time. So instead, I am writing this letter to you in order to inform you of your transgressions in the hope that perhaps you can actually make things just a bit easier for me and any other regular people that might happen to accidentally board that bus.
Firstly, there is nothing noble about standing up when there are open seats. You see, the bus is kinda small, and there is not a lot of room to stand up. So it's all great if you want to stand, but then get out of the goddamn way and let other people sit in that seat. Don't just hover over it, blocking it from everyone else who is squished together, struggling to figure out how to stay standing while the bus is whipping around a corner at 25mph.
Secondly, I don't care if you want to get off at the next stop, don't sit in the aisle seat and leave the window seat open. I would go on more about this, but Chris Bucholz already vocalized this wonderfully in a Cracked.com article, so I recommend clicking on that link and reading the fifth entry. In fact, read the whole article, as he has some points that are particularly relevant for you mouth-breathing ass-clowns.
Thirdly, please wait until you get off the bus to apply your 19 squirts of Chanel Number Five perfume so we don't have to choke on that shit the whole ride. Also, you're not even wearing real Chanel Number Five; it's a knock-off that your husband bought you for 50 crowns from a Vietnamese dude because you are a horrible harpy who can't get her fucking act together and he fucking hates you.
Fourthly, Please do not let your dog hump people. On the bus. I cannot stress this enough. Dogs are good and innocent creatures, don't force them to wallow in your ineptitude.
Those are simply the most glaring cases of the idiocy that you have demonstrated in the recent past, but they do stand as a representative example of your horrendous bus-riding behavior. While I hope that you will read this and take efforts to not act like riding the bus is some sort of arduous skill that takes years to master, I understand that as my archenemy you will completely ignore this post and continue to make my life a living hell for 15 minutes twice a day.
Sincerely,
Adam Sweet
As Chuck Klosterman eloquently described in this Esquire piece from 2004, every man needs both a nemesis and an archenemy. While both of these are your rivals, you have an affinity for your nemesis and would lose a little bit of yourself if something were to happen to him or her. However, your archenemy is the person that, if you saw him or her engulfed in flames, you would stand around laughing and the only thing you would do is drop your pants and urinate on their still-smoldering corpse.
But what does that have to do with you, my dear fellow passengers of the 135?
It's easy: Every single one of you is my archenemy.
The profound and baffling inability of each and every one of you to figure out how to ride a bus has caused you to become my collective archenemy. Every time I board the 135, I wonder what manner of complete and utter failure as human beings you've cooked up today.
Perhaps this confuses you, and you don't understand why one of your fellow passengers should have this sort of hatred for you. After all, it's just riding the bus, how can you screw that up? Which is the same question I have for you: How can you fucking screw up riding the damn bus? How is it possible that you don't know that you should sit down if there are seats available, or that leaning against the doors is a bad idea, or that maybe you shouldn't let you fucking dog hump the other passengers' legs?
Now, it is pretty obvious that the entire world would be a better place if the 135 just happened to crash and burst into flames, killing everyone on board. Unfortunately, this is not a viable option due to the fact that I might happen to be on it at the time. So instead, I am writing this letter to you in order to inform you of your transgressions in the hope that perhaps you can actually make things just a bit easier for me and any other regular people that might happen to accidentally board that bus.
Firstly, there is nothing noble about standing up when there are open seats. You see, the bus is kinda small, and there is not a lot of room to stand up. So it's all great if you want to stand, but then get out of the goddamn way and let other people sit in that seat. Don't just hover over it, blocking it from everyone else who is squished together, struggling to figure out how to stay standing while the bus is whipping around a corner at 25mph.
Secondly, I don't care if you want to get off at the next stop, don't sit in the aisle seat and leave the window seat open. I would go on more about this, but Chris Bucholz already vocalized this wonderfully in a Cracked.com article, so I recommend clicking on that link and reading the fifth entry. In fact, read the whole article, as he has some points that are particularly relevant for you mouth-breathing ass-clowns.
Thirdly, please wait until you get off the bus to apply your 19 squirts of Chanel Number Five perfume so we don't have to choke on that shit the whole ride. Also, you're not even wearing real Chanel Number Five; it's a knock-off that your husband bought you for 50 crowns from a Vietnamese dude because you are a horrible harpy who can't get her fucking act together and he fucking hates you.
Fourthly, Please do not let your dog hump people. On the bus. I cannot stress this enough. Dogs are good and innocent creatures, don't force them to wallow in your ineptitude.
Those are simply the most glaring cases of the idiocy that you have demonstrated in the recent past, but they do stand as a representative example of your horrendous bus-riding behavior. While I hope that you will read this and take efforts to not act like riding the bus is some sort of arduous skill that takes years to master, I understand that as my archenemy you will completely ignore this post and continue to make my life a living hell for 15 minutes twice a day.
Sincerely,
Adam Sweet