The train yesterday yielded an opportunity to try out my new method of not thinking about shit: making up terrible haikus and rhymes.
Here’s what we got in half an hour.
Young men on the train
Discussing who’s the bottom
Man in hat moves seat.
Yaars, so there were a group of guys in their 20s who either work in the gaming industry or really should be working in the gaming industry, because their conversation indicated that unlocking the next level is their great passion in life. Love like that should not be wasted.
At one point though they switched tracks from the secret key you get after opening the sixth gate, to speculating which of their gay friends in established couples, was bottom and who was top. The sixty something gentleman in the light blue bucket hat is not as nosey as I am so he moved further down the train rather than getting the low down on Saul and Andy, or Sandy as they are collectively known. (The consenus amongst their pals is that Saul is on the bottom.)
They took up again with levels after that so once more I was left fighting off a barrage of intruding consciousness. Fortunately there was a poster of a hipster dude with a gloriously large beard on the train which led to some more Seussing:
That chap has a bird in his beard
How can he not have noticed?
Such ignorance is awfully weird.
Surely he must hear it squawking!
Why it interrupted my friend and I talking.
Surely he must feel it scratching.
Hmmn, maybe not…
His beard is thick like thatching.
The bird looks sick,
I hope it’s nothing catching.
Perhaps it’s weak
From protecting eggs that are hatching!
This man will be host to a cluster of beaks.
Baby birds not able to fly for many weeks.
Tiny creatures with no access to plumbing.
Surely then he’ll notice his beard is humming,
With a maliferous odor that is truly fowl.
Surely then he’ll evict that sodding owl.