Life Imitating Art....

I saw a comedy sketch a while ago, in which an irritating man on a train goes through his entire mobile phone book, telling each of his friends the same banal story of his day, far too loudly, and to the annoyance of fellow passengers.

I have to admit, I thought it was a bit over the top, as I'm one of those people who things that, as long as you're maintaining a respectable (i.e. normal conversational level) volume, talking on the phone on a train does not deserve the sneers of others, or the placing of those annoying little window stickers declaring this to be a 'quiet zone'.

Just because the little Nazi's who like to rule the lives of others have found a new thing to moan about, it doesn't make you a criminal if you'd like to tell your partner you're on the way home from work, or need a lift from the station for fucks sake.

That said, I was shocked to find myself sitting next to a classic CHAV on the train yesterday who proceeded to do exactly as the man in the sketch did, informing all of us at full volume, at least three times, all about the frankly boring events of his weekend, including a less than veiled reference to his own sexual conquests.

So to the baseball-cap wearing, shell-suited fucktard on the train from Waterloo to Basingstoke, thanks for giving the anti-freedom Nazi's of South-West Trains an excuse to try to ban yet another normal activity. Twat.