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Truth On Ice

Where truth collides with your face!

Truthfully…I did..about a week ago on the El. Okay, so maybe I am totally fabricating the truth a tad. But in my defense he looked an awful lot like Jesus…except for the full body tatto he had …and for the run down Van sneakers he had on. Jesus for sure would have worn Birkenstock Sandals


Riding SEPTA is always an adventure. In fact I’d go so far as to say that SEPTA should have it’s own television shows in honor of the travesties that occur on a daily basis. This leads me to the topic of this blog:

Things I Hate About Riding Septa

The Smell- I pride myself on my body odor because I am happy to say that I wash and shower on a daily basis. Sadly the same cannot be said of all SEPTA riders. I’m bombarded by a plethora of odors everyday. Whether it be the elderly people smell (come on you KNOW old people smell funny)or the dank musty,sweaty smell of teenage boys who don’t shower after a ball game, the general bad B.O of folks who just don’t believe in soap and water, the obnoxious overdose of perfume or cologne because someone just didn’t know how to pull their finger off the pump or my personal favorite to hate: fishy menstrual smell. Come on…you just had to get on the bus and cock your legs wide open so everyone can smell how much of a woman you are. Spare me.

Cell Phone Users- Some people simply can’t use their inside voices while inside. I guess it never occured to them that the whole entire transit unit did not need to know that they found out person A was sleeping with person B behind person C’s back..and now person A is pregnant with person B’s baby except for the fact that it might actually be person X’s! Just shut up. Don’t get on the phone. Nobody cares except for you and the other person on your line; stop sharing with the rest of the commuters.

Crazy People- Yea yea I’m a compassionate person. I understand that they can’t help themselves. Blah blah blah. But WHY do they ALWAYS have to sit next to me? I try to be nice. They just start up conversations with me randomly about fuzzy kitties in top hats and sleep overs with Hitler and I’m suppose to just sit there and pretend like it’s normal. All the while I’m trying to keep a straight face while they jabber at me and spittle is coming at me full force all in my eye. There should be a rule or something about insane folks being allowed to ride public trans. Call it prejudice if you want…but secretly inside where no one can see ;you agree with me.

Jr. High and High School Students – If children are our future then the future is looking very bleak from my seat on the train. These kids mill onto the buses, trains trolleys etc. in packs just like animals. The young boys’ pants are way too tight and their boots way too furry and the young girls skirt is way too short and their hair way too wild. Here’s a suggestion: Stop showing off your Barbie panties to everyone and pretend like your mother raised you with some diginity and respect. Their language is way too foul and they talk about things that I didn’t even know about until I was much older! They smack their gum too loud and promiscuity oozes from their little oily pores. Did I mention they were way too loud? Most days I just want to put them over my knee and beat the fool out of them…and if there weren’t rules on child abuse…I probably would.

Fat People Who Sit Next to Other Fat People- This is pretty self explanatory. I am not small. I take up a good amount of space. If you way more than 180 you probably shouldn’t try to sit next to me.  But alas, I attract the most obnoxious people. They come and they huff and puff themselves right into the very small very narrow seat that my thigh is already sneaking onto. They give me the evil eye as if I should have moved over…but there is no room, my nostrils are now officially pressed against the glass. They sit there snoring while awake and continuously adjust themselves to try to get comfortable. News Flash: THIS IS UNCOMFORTABLE! No matter how much you move yourself around and try to adjust…we’re still going to be two fat people sitting in one small seat. You do the math.

Transit Romance- Get a room. I don’t want to watch you dry hump. I don’t want to watch you swap spit with “your boo.” I don’t care to watch this silly girl giggle senselessly over some tired joke you told. I don’t want to see the awkward fumbling over words as you guys excitedly put eachother’s numbers into your cellphones while trying to play it cool. This isn’t some after school special…you haven’t found love on the Broad Street line. What you’ve found at best is a booty call and a potential STD. Period. No questions asked.


I think I shall stop here because my break is over. Until next time folks. Au revoir



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