Loud Mouthed Train Bores

Today, Mrs Twenty and I spent just over two and a half hours on an incredibly overcrowded train. It would have been bad enough had it just been smelly and full of the usual travelling cunts without the foghorn voiced yank in the seats immediately behind us. He managed to spend the entire duration of the journey regaling each new person who sat down next to, or opposite him.

According to him we are all just ‘one degree away from each other if we did but know. This totally non self-aware cunt said that his mind-blowingly vacuous philosophy of life could be proven by simply asking the tight questions!

‘I have probably, at some point, been in touch with you office, or perhaps we may know someone who went to the same school. or we may even have been to the same place on holiday! Have you been to Sorrento?’He asked some wretched woman.

‘As a matter of fact I have.’ The woman replied. WRONG ANSWER!!!!

‘So have I. See, I told you. We are only one degree apart! Did you like it?’

‘Yes, it was very nice.’ WRONG ANSWER!!!

‘So did I. It’s uncanny, isn’t it. I went there with my fiance (fucking hell, what must she be like?!) we went for the Love Festival, it was at St Valentines.Who did you go with?’

‘My husband.


What a fucking twat. How many people go to Sorrento for a holiday? I looked it up, more than 2 million every fucking year. How many people have a regular partner? I looked it up, at any one time approximately 65% of people are in regular partnerships.

Even as people queued to exit the train, the idiot abroad was expounding his wondrous wisdom to yet more hapless, tired and sweaty fellow passengers.

‘We are all only one degree apart from one another. What is your line of business…’

Wiki Link.

The above link refers to the less refined six degrees of separation, which is also utter bollocks.

Nominated by : Twenty Thousand Cunts Under the Sea

39 thoughts on “Loud Mouthed Train Bores

  1. Imagine being one of the first passengers at the start of the journey, en route to the final destination.
    Now imagine having one of those remote fart boxes taped under a seat across the aisle…..It aint boring I can tell ye.

  2. The biggest bores on trains are those twats who insist on using mobile phones in designated ‘quiet’ carriages, and get shirty when you ask them to stop.

    Ignorant cunts.

    Morning all.

  3. They do it on the buses as well – in my part of London we have Chinkies as well as the usual parking stanleys and Lammy’s. Loud mouthed (high pitched as well in the case of the Chinks and some of the P.S’s. There is usually a stink of fast food, dirty socks and curry as well. Appalling.

  4. I went on the train a couple of years back to Edinburgh..

    Naturally the direct service was cancelled so had to travel from Manchester to Preston to catch another “service”..

    Fuck me every type of human dung imaginable had decided to fill that train..and the service to Edinburgh was only marginally better..junkies,dark keys,escaped human experiments,tramps..you fucking name it..

    Plus of course the “businessman” on his laptop whilst talking loudly into his phone..

    Fucking excruciatingly awful.


  5. There should be a cunts carriage on trains for anyone who is up their own arse but thinks they are interesting and other people would benefit from their wise words.

    On the subject of degrees of separation, some yank asked me if I knew the beetles , I assumed he meant did I know who they are, no he meant did I know them personally.

  6. Why didn’t someone TWAT the yank. I’d have gone to town on the cunt, repeatedly correcting the cunt with the missing Ds and Ts and continually correct his hamshankisms.

    • Years ago you could have thrown him off the train into some scrub, a hedge or, if you were lucky with timing, into a bridge. Now you have to wait until it stops at a station and throw him onto the platform , it’s taken all the fun out of it.

      • I’d still kick them in the bollocks for their rain checks and from the get go. Get to fuck you yankie bastards.

  7. I gave up train travel years ago, partly for the reasons expounded above but also for cost and flexibility. The only form of public transport I use now is the aeroplane if I’m going outside Great Britain. I did take a VW transporter on the ferry Rotterdam to collect some stuff a couple of years ago. That was OK though the silly buggers over there drive on the wrong side of the road.

      • I had the misfortune of needing to catch a bus recently after car trouble. First time in 20 years.

        Fuck me, it was just a mobile zoo.

      • I end up snapping at people or just raging. Snotty council estate hood rats, obese women who can barely walk but managed to drop 5 snot monsters.

        Unemployed layabouts, students, elderly drunks who smell of piss. Students, foreign cunts. People!

        Public transport is like a call to rebuild the death camps.

  8. Fuck all forms of public transport. To be avoided regardless of cost. Full of cunts, some dirty cunts, some smelly cunts, some loud cunts, some ignorant cunts, some a combo of all of the aforementioned, but all cunts regardless.

  9. Just as bad, is when you board an empty carriage, some cunt sits either behind you or across the aisle and starts to eat their way through a family sized bag of smelly crisps.
    A cunter on here advised me a while ago to masturbate vigorously when the similar happens, but unfortunately that does not always work. 😃

      • Thomas probably knows the full calculation, how many wanks you can manage on any given journey.

    • Best done just before you go into a long unlit tunnel. For as far back as I can remember I’ve had a Trans Pennine season ticket for that very purpose.

  10. This reminds me of that one time a woman sitting in the opposite row from me spent an hour and a half on the phone bitching to her friend about her ‘cruel’ manager and ‘horrible’ job. It was one of those bigshot corporate jobs too – I don’t remember which one but do remember thinking it would’ve been well paid. As entertaining as her tirade was I couldn’t help thinking ‘try living in the real world you fucking bitch.’

  11. as a chavvy I’d go anywhere and everywhere, now I’m an old cunt I don’t want to go anywhere the country is bedecked with twats every journey is a fucking exercise in getting agitated and that’s travelling in my own motor, how the fuck anybody goes by pubic transport and doesn’t commit murder is beyond me, the country is fucked, roll on the happy release of death.💀

      • Must be different in built-up areas, Opey. In the countryside the buses are only used by old cunts who have don’t mind taking 3 hours to get 5 items of shop[ping and the 8AM /3PM waves of school kids, as well the odd unfortunate who eats their own scabs.

        They’re are far too unreliable for anyone with a job.

  12. I must have one of those faces, because everytime I travel by bus, I always get the bus nutter sitting next to me.

    Either that, or some fucking hippo (male or female) who stinks like the last time they bathed was for the Queens Silver Jubilee.

  13. Due to a rather unfortunate visual disability (Colonel Blink, anyone), J’ve spent a lifetime on public transport. In one f×cking journey it has felt like sometimes.

    Particular cunting for the gobby, whining, entitled bell ends who get onto a late bus and gob off at the driver. Of course he/she has hidden round the corner for 40 minutes just to delay your free bus ride to claim even more of my tax from the DSS.

    Nothing to do with road conditions beyond their control, is it?

    I’d gladly tie the scum to the back of the bus by their f×cking ankles so that by the time they got to the DSS only the rope is left. Utter bar stewards, all of them.

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