Good evening! Or if you’re an email subscriber, good morning!

I did have something that I, at least, found interesting to write about today but it’s a fast day and I’ve been out this afternoon and things have become a little tetchy around the the kitchen table so, frankly, I’m not in the right frame of mind to write tonight.

I did, however, come across a great little YouTube video on Twitter today that chimed immediately with me. I’ve nothing against men individually per se, some of my best friends are men, but they do sometimes have some irritating habits. I’m not going on about this although I could, like, forevah, but some behaviour on public transport appals me.

Have a look at this:

Why do they feel so entitled to take up so much space? The Boywonder told me it’s because, when men wear tight jeans their valuables are constricted but I’m not sure whether I’d go along with this argument. Most of the manspreaders I’ve seen aren’t wearing tight jeans.

And just to show you that I’m an equal opportunities ranter, there are a few other people that I’d like to see expunged from public transport:

  • People who feel that one cannot merely sit on a train, one has to recline so they put their feet up on the seat in front with no consideration whatsoever for the dry cleaning bill of the next person who has to sit in that seat.
  • Then there are the people who eat their lunch on suburban trains. I’m not talking about long distance ones where consumption of meals might be vital but most of us can wait for half an hour to eat our meal at a table properly set with silverware. Can’t we? There may be those among you who have never sampled the delights of a Big Mac but that is one saucy beast. It’s virtually impossible to eat it anywhere without large splodges of mayo or those minuscule bits of lettuce and onion tumbling down your person or onto the seats. On a train or bus it looks disgusting and you invariably end up with waxy orange “cheese” all down your chin. Just no.
  • Then there are the people who reserve seats for the bags. Bags do not need a seat. They have their own designated places. Or your lap will do, lady.
  • Talking of ladies, applying your make-up on public transport is simply wrong, ladies. It’s an intimate act that no-one wishes to share with you. Plus you’re a hostage to fortune. Give anyone half a chance and they’ll point out that that particular shade of Fulsome Fuchsia only brings out the bags under your eyes.
  • Then the music makers and sodcasters, whose tinny drum n’ bass is so good that they just have to share it with everyone else in that carriage.
  • Or those desperately trying to avoid the gaze of the standing five-months-pregnant woman wearing a Baby on Board badge who’s just about to faint from dizziness and the effort of holding back her morning sickness as the train waits for twenty minutes outside London Bridge due to signalling problems. (I know of which I speak)
  • And as for people who TALK on the tube: do they not know that this is simply NOT ALLOWED in London?

I’d like to see all those who indulge in these wanton displays of bad manners deported (I’d say shot but I’m against capital punishment) to a desert island where they could all get on each other’s nerves and leave the rest of us in peace.

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