London Underground

Could my nomination for London Cunterground be considered please?

London Cunterground have managed to defy the laws of physics. According to their train timetable system, 1 min and 38 seconds of terrestrial time is 1 min of London Cunterground time. Whilst standing at Stratfordstantinople Station this morning, I compared the timing of their indicator board with my own very accurate Seiko watch and the findings were astonishing. I have never stood so long waiting for a train, supposedly one minute away, to finally clatter in.

London Cunterground is not the only operator that has its own unique dimension of time. Network Cunting Rail tried to convince me that a train that took 8 minutes to reach the station was 1 minute away at the start of the 8 minute period and that stayed the case until the wheezy old loco crawled into the station in time for the driver to jump out in seek of a cup of tea and presumably some Battenburg.

Fuck London Cunterground and its Martian time zones. I blame ‘Quatermass and the Pit’ for their chicanery.

Cunts.

Nominated by Paul Maskinback

42 thoughts on “London Underground

  1. Christ on a pogo stick Paul, you’re a courageous man to brave the wretched hive of Stratford East station. Last time I was there it took all my guile and stealth to avoid the stabby travellers (I shan’t use the word ‘customers’ as I suspect few had purchased a ticket) and that was after navigating the chuggers and beggars and buskers and cunts that festoon the filthy forecourt. Walk in any direction and after five minutes the station feels like a safe haven. Newham is like Beirut without the night life. It’s a fucking shithole.

    (As an aside, I must say that on the whole, I like the Tube. It’s fast, quirky, has an incredible history, and is idiosyncratically British. We should remember that we built the first ever Underground in the World – it often feels old – in the 1860s when most countries were still shitting in the bushes).

  2. Stay well clear of Londonistan,
    But when id have to go there for work related stuff years ago, whenever on the underground always though of that scene in ‘american werewolf in London’ and the Jams ‘going underground’

  3. When i was a kid I used to buy a capital card and go and feed the mice on the tube line.
    You can hardly see the dusty little buggers but chuck a few bits of bread on the line and watch it magically disapeer into the tunnels

    • Why in the name of all that’s Holy aren’t the Police arresting all these fucking useless spongers…the sound of wooden truncheon on benefit scrounger / activist skull would be a joyful one to me.

      They beat the miners senseless for trying to keep their jobs but these useless fucking drains on modern society are allowed to stop honest folk from going about their business.

      I BET if you said “get caught on one of these fucking pointless “look at me” exercises and your benefits will be stopped immediately” they would all vanish into their various drug farms and four bed semis.

      Come on Police, beat the fucking shit out of these cunts.

      get writing

      • These jamborees – I mean protests – are scheduled to continue over the next two weeks.

        More than enough time for a nom or 14…

      • I’d never thought of it like that. Miners protesting to keep the mines open – get a right fucking pasting. Stupid middle class cunts protesting about some horse-shit – plod leave them alone. Why don’t they sub out the policing to me – I’d crack a few of those cunts heads.

    • I knew I hadn’t gone mad (yet, that is) and that I had scheduled Extinction Rebellion myself very recently……they’ve already been done, so don’t know why there is nothing in the library. The nom was published on 31st July 2019 (just looked back at all posts)….

      And that was nom number TWO!!

      On a personal front, please no more fucking climate change. We are getting as bad as Greta the brat for moaning about this shit.

  4. London Underground… An amazing example of engineering and logistics etc, getting cunts all over the capital in record time. A brilliant achievement… The only let down is that it’s full of cunts…I’ll be on it later. Go fuck yourselves.

    • I’ve been on the Victoria and Northern Lines this morning and I think I saw you with your Extinction Rebellion placard, B&W, aaat and aaaat.

      • It was me CM, I was hanging around pretending to support the cause because I spotted a sexy hippy type woman.
        The placard actually said ‘Let’s get aaaat the EU, sexy women get your cunts aaaat’ this didn’t go down well and I was chased out the area by some big fat Lezzers and some blokes with man buns. You must have saw the placard after my escape when some of the letters fell off.

  5. Time is even more off on the London bus system. Often 3 minutes turns into ten and as fuckers don’t queue any more (I suppose they are too cool to queue?), you can be standing there and half a dozen peacefuls with pushchairs and old hags with shopping trollies, and soy-boys on their phones will come and stand in front of you. They never get the timings right but I suppose it usually gives some indication on what comes next.

  6. Londonistan is dripping with the ability to get anywhere within the Circle of Cunts (the M25 to me and thee) and yet the fuckers who live there do nothing but moan about how shit their public transport is because – pray heaven – they might have to walk 100yds to the nearest tube, bus or DLR stop. Well boo-fucking-hoo!

    I live oop norf and while Durham, Newcastle and Sunderland CITIES span a triangle of less than 10 miles point-to-point it can take hours to traverse those distances via public transport.

    Oh there are buses, trains and metros aplenty to get you between the cities but getting TO your nearest city in the first place, no so much.

    Having worked in the Shitty at various times in my 25yrs as a wage slave, I can honestly say that getting about in that hell hole was about the best thing about the place! Absolutely no need to drive there.

    However I accept my public transport lot up here because if you ever have to use it at least you feel like you’re in England instead of Mogadishu or Islamabad!

    Deffo a price worth paying!

    London cunts, stop moaning about your public transport system. At least you have one!

    Cunts!

  7. I couldn’t agree more with this great cunting, Paul. I fucking hate the Tube.

    Hot, grubby, packed full of self-serving cunts who don’t give two fucks who they push out of the way to get to where they are going, infested by cunts eating their stinking shit in a claustrophobic space so every fucker around them has to tolerate their ‘curried chicken wrap’ or whatever the fuck, selfish bastards hogging more than one seat with either their numerous baggage or their cock and balls exposing, ‘man legs’, and the list goes on and on and on……..

    I take my Mum to our old home town of Harrow (or should I say ‘India’) every Saturday to get her hair done. It is 15-20 minutes up the Met Line from where we are. Coming back, the platform at Harrow Station was heaving (because the useless fuckers that are Transport For London probably cut out one or two trains) There is one single, soilitary place to sit on the platform – a set of eight seats. Every one was occupied by 20-30 year-olds (mostly fit and well men) plugged into their fucking mobile phones. There were two asian cunts even fucking ‘FaceTiming’ to some screeching brat, bellowing every fucking word they blabbed…….all when my tired (and still working three days a week) 78-year-old Mum is standing there, propped up by yours truly. Not one fucker would offer their seat up to her.

    This is typical of the selfish, me, me, me, scumbags who proliferate London Underground every damned day. It is also demonstrative of the number of cunts we have living here in Londonistan and it only gets worse and worse as the years go by.

    The Tube is a means to an end. FULL STOP. I avoid it at all costs as I find it a demoralising and depressing experience every time.

    Full of cunt passengers and run by useless cunts.

    • I worked on the Met line as a guard/emergency motorman back in 1979. Did not stay for long cos the shift patterns were fucking terrible and you had to get a few years in before you were allowed to sort out your preferred shift patterns with the other guards. Even then 40 years ago most of the users were cunts. Drunks and druggies shitting on the floors, vast amounts of vomit, people dying, doors held open so Hienrick and Helga could get the train. Once when doing a Circle line duty I had open and close the doors eight times before I got the pilot light, we were so late that we went out of service cos timetable was fucked. Too many people then.
      As for no one offering your mum a seat that was normal back then to. Nothing much appears to have changed though I suppose with the multitude of languages spoken in the smoke even the fun of eavesdropping has been taken away.

  8. A tremendous engineering triumph that now ferries a lot of kebabmakers and chiggun mitherers about,making it really quite unsavoury.
    Excellent cunting PM.
    I think it’s fair to say all public transport uses alternative “methods” for timing it’s clapped out meat wagons.
    I think they used to have a job ruining Dr Who.

  9. I have a mate who works for the cunts at a Central Line station. The stuff he sends me on the sly is fucking unbelievable. All about black history, benders, trannies, pooftahs etc. He thinks his managers don’t want to run a train service, but a social engineering experiment. He also carries out random ethnicity surveys on the passengers. The highest Brit rating he’s ever got was about 5% Brits. Dooskahs, Africunts. etc.. Most bunk the gates and they’re told not to stop them. That or faked travel cards. He’s counting down the minutes to retirement.

    Next stage – sack all staff and sub it out to G4.

  10. Quality, Paul: just quality!
    And so say all of us…
    πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ»πŸ‘πŸΌπŸ‘πŸ½πŸ‘πŸΎπŸ‘πŸΏ.

    (X300)

  11. Loved it at first for the novelty after moving to London and spending 6 months on the Finsbury Park to Moorgate overground (that was fun as the train either went to Moorgate or King’s Cross and the destination on the front was clearly only a guess on the part of the staff). The novelty almost immediately wore off after we went straight through King’s Cross, on the Northern Line, when it was on fire, and I suddenly realised how easy it is to be utterly fucked in a metal tube dozens of feet underground. I then spent 3 years in the late 80’s on the Northern Line from Woodside Park to Moorgate, I felt like a troglodyte on more than one occasion. I don’t think I’d go on it now if you paid me, although I don’t think I’d even be able to go to London now as I don’t have a passport.

  12. Tri-weekly
    Try weekly
    Try weakly…!!
    Thought WordFence had finally decided to come and zap me, possible triggers being names of Chief-Cuntstable of Londonistan, and Head of Cunter-Terrorism, but I got these through under Extinction Rebellion 3, I think.
    My apologies… although within a couple of minutes of opening site, WordFence tells me to FO and do one…!

  13. 🎢Some people might like to get a train to work,
    Or drive in in a Beamer or a Merc.
    Some guys like to travel in by bus,
    But I can’t be bothered with the fuss today.
    I’m gonna take my bike,
    ‘Cos, once again, the tube’s on strike.
    The greedy bastards want extra pay,
    For sitting on their arse all day,
    Even though they earn 100K.
    So, I’m standing here in the pouring rain:
    Where the fuck’s my fucking train?!

    London Underground, (London Underground)
    They’re all lazy, fucking, useless cunts.
    London Underground, (London Underground)
    They’re all greedy cunts, I wanna shoot them all with a rifle.

    All they say is, ‘Please mind the doors.”,
    And they learned that on the two-day course.
    This job could be done by a *TWO*-year-old,
    They just leave us freezing in the cold.
    What you smell is what you get,
    Burger King and piss and sweat.
    You roast to death in the boiling heat,
    With tourists treading on your feet
    And chewing gum on every seat.
    So, don’t tell me to mind the gap:
    I want my fucking money back!

    London Underground, (London Underground)
    They’re all lazy, fucking, useless cunts.
    London Underground, (London Underground)
    They’re all greedy cunts, I wanna shoot them all with a rifle.

    La, la, la, la.
    La, la, la, la.

    The floors are sticky and the seats are damp,
    Every platform has a fucking tramp.
    But the drivers get the day off, when we’re all late for work again.

    London Underground, (London Underground)
    Wa-wa-wankers, they’re all wankers.
    London Underground, (London Underground)
    Take your Oyster Card, and shove it up your arsehole.🎢

  14. You’re right, London underground is a cunt. However, it does provide moments of amusement. Like when a mate I served in the Army and I encountered a Walt (a scumbag pretending to be a soldier). It was about 8pm and the train was surprisingly empty, except for said Walt, my mate and I and two young, rather attractive Aussie girls. Walt was wearing some kind of red, military style tunic, which I’m pretty sure was foreign. He had black jeans on and light brown. He also had a beard and fair amount of hair on his Head. He and girls got talking and he basically bullshitted them that he was on his way to the palace to receive a medal from the Queen for his actions in Iraq (at 8pm in the evening)?

    The guy was so full of shit, and eventually our amusement turned to anger. So we spoke out. We started by pointing out that only farriers were allowed to wear beards, which had to be kept tidy. His wasn’t. We also pointed that he was NOT wearing a British Army uniform. For a start, he had no beret or cap, nothing to identify what regiment or corps he was with. We pointed out that black jeans are NOT part of British Army uniform, and neither are brown shoes. He got a bit pissy and shouted, “and how the fuck would you cunts know”? We opened our coats to reveal our sweatshirts, each of which had jump wings on them and the words “7 Para, Royal Horse Artillery”. We then asked for his service number, which reluctantly and, wrongly, gave. He started with a 3, Army numbers start with a 2. We asked which regiment he was with, he refused to answer. We then asked some technical questions that only a squaddie would be able to answer, he couldn’t. He sat glaring at us, before getting off at the next station. As the train left, he banged on the window and gave us the finger, which we returned while laughing hysterically.

    The two young ladies were in hysterics. So yes, the LU is shit, but it does present opportunities for entertainment.

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