MRT Etiquette

I remember me and Zaki talking bout this on Tuesday after my last paper. Dont know why 2 dickheads out of a myraid of topics oughta bitch on this one but yeah. Our findings on the "clean", "cool", "courteous" MRT system. Cue: Class 95 ad, add another "C" to the 3. "Cock-a-nathan!"

1. The Great Singapore Sale Pros

Dude! There's no free lingerie or 5 dollar knockoff hidden under the seats of the train. Wait your fuckin turn. We know you are carryin big big bags of stinking old dried ikan kurau or that you smell of your cat's menses but don't be pushing onto me! I'm already at the edge of the track, Singapore is a "queue" country. Follow the damn blardy queue, and yeah if you blend in with the yellow lines I really don care, stop touchin me!

2. The Old Folk and The Pregnant Lasses

Now, I have always strived to be cordial and courteous to elders beyond my age, especially hobbling old folk who take the time taken from Khatib to Yishun [And you all know what length that is] just to reach the door from their seats. Now, dear old man, if you know you hobble like a snail, don't overestimate your abilities cos you're only gonna miss your stop. Come into the carriage and stand by the door and cling on for dear life hoping your heart or your legs aint gonna give up anytime soon.

And when I offer you my seat, I have already committed my lazy ass to waking up for some sunshine. Just SIT! No excuses, I watch TV too you know, I know I MUST give you my seat, especially the beautiful green ones. Plonk your arse down, I don't want your excuses. "But, I'm gettin off the next stop" -- "NEVER mind, SIT!". *Pants*Too much ranting*

One last bit before this section ends, you know all those times when you are like just sorting out the stuff on your lap so you could give it up to one old ah soh or ah pek just to find out the guy beside you had already risen and offered his seat. Happened to you? And what do the rest of the ppl do? They stare at ya goddamit...why do you stare? Cos I didnt beat the world record for who can get up his seat fastest? Well I'm sorry, I sucked at musical chairs anyway. And the guy who gives it up also gives u that "look" and that "smirk" .MOFO. Something is real wrong with our nation's train etiquette.

3. The Brats

I say this once, and I say it again. If you can't control your kid. Chain him at home with Rover the dog on the other end so it can bite him in his balls when he yanks it too much. I hate kids running all over the fuckin train. Frankly, if I had done that in my infancy, I would have got smacked soo hard, I'd rather crawl back into the womb. I even got smacked for standing up all the way down, a la surfer at the Big Splash. My mum's hands are bullets. Keep off the freakin hand grips, they are not monkey bars. My spectacles are not your toy and neither do I like you drooling over my school bag.

Oh yes, to the wild uns who insist on running like Ben Johnson and then tripping over your foot and falling like he did too after his dope scandal -- If your mum ever stares at me, like I waited and planned and in Machiavellian fashion aimed to send her offspring flying into air, I'm gonna scream. This is a promise. I will fuck that poor mum up soo bad, she's just going to start a TAXI fund next to your UNI fund.

4. The Groups

The Groups, entails families, couples holding hands cos they scared they get lost within the train and well anybody and everybody as long is more than 1 person. Incl. army boys, factory workers, sec skool kids.

WHY?WHY?WHY must you dickheads insist on sitting together? WHY! Is it such great pain when you cant snuggle up with your friend or colleague in the train. You have a fetish for arms touching you?

If I am sitting and the seat to the left and right of me is free. Just sit! If you want me to move, ask politely: "Excuse me, Sir/Boy/Brother could you move to the next seat?" Ah, that is courtesy. You mofos stand infront of me, me reading my book, you staring me to the ground, expecting me to move??!?!?! I pay the same fare for god's sake. And I take it from freakin Boon Lay, a full hour in the freakin train! Go fuck yourself, or charter a chopper where you can ur blowjob in the fuckin air instead of nestled within me and the glass panel.

Ah, the anger has subsided. School doesn't start for another month or so, so adios MRT, I'm a just gonna call me a Comfort whenever I need to travel. Adieu!

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