We’ve covered that whole fat mess situation you guys have got going on over there pretty thoroughly here what with your eating at the movies, eating at sporting events, eating at places for eating, walking down the street with meatball subs falling out of your pockets all the time like a guy who just won the meatball sub lottery… But when you transfer that phenomenon into an enclosed space filled with total strangers it’s taking things up a few notches. And you guys know how much I like to keep things precisely in the appropriate notch they started off in.
I’m on the bus to New York (The bus. New York.) right now, which — wow! wi-fi on the bus is amazing. I feel like I’m taking a bus to the fucking moon. Soooo, for a while there I thought I was going to walk off of this piece without smelling like a clam shack grease trap. I get enough of that at my day job cleaning clam shack grease traps. Wrong again though Luke, because an hour into the trip my man pulled us over at a Burger King. It’s been one hour! We were all fully capable of eating before getting on the bus. An hour ago. But apparently half the fuckers on this doomed ship of meat souls had worked up a thirst for beef by sitting here so hard all that time. This pork coffin on wheels wreaks of perfumed sugar tomatoes and cheese-product now. And desperation. Although that could just be me in fairness. I haven’t been myself lately.
On the plus side it gave me a chance to flex the old larynx and lung-holes vis a vis some tobacco flavored dirt air. Speaking of which, no one can tell me that this food smell is any better than if I started gunning butts in the shitter right now. I have a pickle-scented headache. Also, is it possible to get airborne e-coli through the nostrils?
Only thing making this trip tolerable is the NYU student blasting mouth-texts into his horn every five seconds about how his audition went. At least I’ve got that to distract me.
Also: stop coughing. People cough too much. Swallow that shit. Your humanity is embarrassing me.