Replacement buses

Replacement Bus services are cunts, aren’t they.

Careers Officer:What do you want to be when you grow up, Graham?

cuntrag: I want to be a Replacement Bus Driver.

Careers Officer: Goodness, why?

cuntrag: Well, because I’m an angry, premature-balding oaf, unconcerned by conscientious work and awkward in social situations. Moreover, because I’m an indolent, overweight moron I’m going to fail all my exams further adding to my hatred of people despite their purchasing of a valid ticket.

Careers Officer: But, do you want to work unsociable hours, late into the night as well as at the weekend?

cuntrag: Certainly not but this, ironically, will enlarge the chip on my shoulder.

Careers Officer: You’ll have to become an expert driver to safely transport all those travellers who’ve been terribly inconvenienced.

cuntrag: Any decent, qualified driver would gain a prestigious, well-compensated driving position. I aim to fill the bus with a toxic diesel smell then change gears as much as possible whilst not turning on the heating system in Winter and blasting it out in Summer. I also intend to drive past replacement bus stops without stopping and, when challenged, reply that they hadn’t rung the bell.

Careers Officer: Well, you’re hideously obese, you smell like you haven’t wiped, and you sound like a contemptible, bloody-minded, bitter cunt. It’s the dream job.

Nominated by Captain Magnanimous

11 thoughts on “Replacement buses

  1. Where on Earth do they dig these abominable zombies from? They’re like Neanderthals on ketamine. They seem to have just dragged themselves out of bed then slithered into the unwashed uniforms of yesterweek. Their eyes half open, they stare ahead of themselves breathing only through their open mouths and unable to engage in any interaction.
    I fucking loathe these disgusting, pig-faced cunts. I’d rather walk or forego my journey.

  2. The worst experience possible, late night replacement buses. With total disregard for the speed limit and braking only at the very last second, an hour on these cunts leaves you violated. I kind of staggered off in a daze, barely able to walk and could only communicate in slurs. It happened once. Never again.

  3. My first act as PM would be to send the army out to drag bus drivers off busses and severely admonish them beside the road with artillery.

    It would also be commanded in the first verse in my new religions sacred book – Sixdog’s book of putrid Vomit.

  4. I have had the pleasure of the Transpennine replacement bus service. Because the bus included other travellers on shorter routes we went on a tour of Yorkshire. I was the worse for wear after a session at the Sheffield Tap (excellent pub on Sheffield station.) Took about 3 hours instead of 1 and left me high and dry at my destination at midnight.

    • I know it CC. Great environment. The old tiling, interesting pictures, great selection of beers. The massive vats. Watching the trains arrive depart getting pissed. Just another one. I’ll get the next train. I couldn’t resist not having a drink waiting for the train. Succumbed once too often when I met my lady boss. I thought I was funny.

      Not long after ‘…can I have a word?’

  5. Excellent cunting, what a pile of cunt. Replacement buses are always a cunt.
    The buses in London are full of cunts, weirdos, mentally ill cunts, cunts, old cunts, loud school kids, bitter pissed off driver’s, cunts, Somalians, racists, cunts, and more cunts. Not only that but they seem to stop every 100 yards. When you go anywhere else the buses simply don’t turn up or they are late due to old cunts who’ve stood at the bus stop waiting for the bus (which is late) for around half an hour and then decide to rummage through their change whilst mumbling some shite for ten minutes when they actually get on the bus and it’s time to pay. The old cunt

  6. Not that I’m any kind of connoisseur, but for once this nom is perforce too specific (cf “Jazz” or “Cyclists”).

    Surely all “stripes” of bus driver are potential cunts, in the absolute terms of this cunting? Notice: not all bus drivers are cunts, but all manner of such chauffeurs possess the potential so to be.

    Their cuntery in my limited experience includes driving slowly and defensively (for no reason), stopping to make up time (I refer here specifically to the 142/42 service between East Didsbury and Piccadilly Manchester, where there are four competing operators and around 60 double-deckers per hour from 06:00-21:00).

    A handful of drivers on this route are good. They take 25 minutes from the Didsbury clock to central Manchester, thus little more than driving yourself. Others, and the majority, pussyfoot about and take 50 minutes as a result. Burn them at the stake.

    Limited personal experience, I admit, but as with all things similar, it’s very much a matter for the specific operative concerned. Replacement bus services are something I would generally avoid, and I would certainly request a refund from the rail service provider and put it toward the cab fare before using one, where applicable. Or get on my bike….

  7. I’m very lucky I never have to catch the peasant wagon, but replacement bus drivers sound much like service bus drivers.
    My friend once tried strangling a bus driver, while we were doing about 40 mph. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but still caused much hilarity.

    • Where I live, buses REFUSE to stop at the railway station. All the lovely connections that you could make to leave the shithole by train are lost to you, cos the cunty bus drivers sail past without stopping. Bus drivers can be cunts. Rail replacement drivers are fucking smelly cunts, all the time.

  8. If Dr Fat Cunt Beeching hadn’t ripped up thousands of miles of rail track, there wouldn’t be any need for ‘replacement buses’ now. Given the rail stock and technology we have now, all those lines could still be running, many at an albeit modest profit, but profit nonetheless. The first major post-war conservative mistake in my opinion.

Comments are closed.