2003-01-24 . 3:22 p.m.
So - payday has hit so I shall be partaking in some Jacketh of Daniels tonight. As a precursor I thought I'd write about the bane of my existence (this week at any rate).
Public Transport Sucks
It's so...so...beige. It's fucking dull. It is unbelievably boring and crap to sit next to a bunch of old ladies all on their way to cash their pensions or some spotty oik bunking off school to hand around in the mall. I want a new Tram. I want...
THE PIMP TRAM
If I ever won the lottery I would like to get my own tram and decorate it properly. It would have chandeliers and disco-balls, dancing poles and red leather upholstery. It would churn out loud, heavy, bass-led funk in a "Wokka-wokka-wow" style. It would have flashing lights running all along the sides and it would have a bar and jacuzzi. I would also consider fitting a bedroom with a big heart shaped bed (that vibrates) and a fridge with pink champagne in it.
All my conductors would be hot chix (yes... that's right Chix with an "X") and would wear hot pants and little else. To get on board the Pimp-Tram you'd have to meet the dress code, no trainers (sneakers) and a tie. Money would be placed in the Conductresses' garter belts.
The driver is issued with a bright orange velvet zoot-suit and a wide brimmed hat garnished with white leopardskin and a big-ass peacock feather.
I think I could make a fairly tidy profit with my pimp tram.
RIDE WIT' ME! ("Next stop - The Pub - Let's hear you say 'Hell, Yeah")
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