Wednesday, October 29, 2008


Just as my luck would have it, a few days ago I got a fucking SMOKING ticket on the bus platform, I WOULD get a ticket for smoking.... I rarely ever smoke, but of course, the one time I do, I would get a ticket for it. Since then I have been more observant of posted signs and other law breakers, and if it weren't for my obsessive nature to smile at people that look like they're having a bad day, Mr. Sheriff wouldn't have slowed his roll and backed up on the busway therefore making ME have a bad day, WHERE THE FUCK IS MY SMILE, STRANGERS? Moving on and forward, today as I once again had to run for the bus, a noticed an unaware law breaker. He was huffing down a ciggie like he had been smoking with both hands since birth, which very well could be true from his appearance. Where are the sheriffs now? Hmm, jerking themselves off with the radar gun I suppose. Thank you judicial system, you are truly just. 

Number one reason public transportation blows, crying babies. Simply. I'm not a hater on the future of tomorrow's current milk issues, but when I have to sit through 20 minutes of non-stop crying in a small space, already bugged because my sorry excuse for an iPod is in someone's glove box, I'm almost bound to lose my shit. And trust me, I know a thing or two about doing whatever it takes to get your kid to shut the fuck up thanks to my step mom, but breast feeding on the bus is a no no on all accounts. Half of Los Angeles didn't need to see that, some did, I didn't. But 2 things that I do extremely appreciate and might be overlooked to the untrained eye, but thanks to my creeper status I ravish in them. One being the decked out black kid so so fresh that he's even got studded ear rings that say "sexy," that's got me thinking "oh,... really?" And as he sits down shoots looks like "sooooooo, listen...uhh can I have it?" And if you have no idea what I'm talking about you need to youtube "Can I Have Your Number - MadTv" only funny thing MadTv has ever put out, ever. I make myself giggle on the Metro, I get it how I need it. Where I proceed to text Martine so she too can partake in these events, where her response was "WHO TAUGHT HIM THAT" which I unhesitatingly texted back "MTV." Secondly, the hefty Mexican dude who was falling asleep standing up directly in front of me, I was so afraid you were going to topple onto my unscuffed nike's. Did you feel my eyes engulfing your prison tattoos? There were more tits than a porno on your forearm to make AVN jealous and those 3 tear drops made me drop a tear myself. Brown pride tattoos with single needles have to be my absolute favorite, I couldn't help but notice that you had just breasts with a sombrero hovering over them. Are those the only good parts of a woman, boobs and siesta time hats? I was hoping for at least some ass... wait, sounded wrong. 

I honestly hope I shed some light on people's marine layer day with my horrificly awesome texts about the metro. If you're not lucky enough to get a daily dose of "WTF" messages, sorry, read the blog. And for people in the states that don't know what "marine layer" is, they're CLOUDS, watch the weather channel.  


So, there's this kid that I see at school, might be 1 of 5 white guys I bump into daily and he's the cutest thing this side of Van Nuys Blvd. Thank goodness I wear sunglasses every day and can't see me eye fucking him back as we pass. I wish he rode the bus so I can eye molest him longer, no talking. I'm guna make the move on this long blonde babe. Watch me.

Side Note: This gal Meiko sings some legit stuff, it's overly adorable and my obsession for the week. "Boys With Girlfriends" and "Reasons to Love You," check it.

Monday, October 27, 2008

This Bud's For You

Side note: crazy drunk dude from last post, is a teacher at my school. The next day I saw him in line at the cafeteria while I was purchasing my eco friendly water that gives portions of money to build wells in impoverished nations and he got oil from the vats in the kitchen. He was still a douche bag in line.

I woke up ridiculously late for school, well, I usually wake up ridiculously early for school, so I guess it'd actually just be normal time. Anyways, this throws me off my normal bus routine with the usual suspects, but there were some prime candidates that made this little mix up worth while. I don't know Airwalk was still in business, but apparently they are and thriving off the Los Angeles metro go-ers. You'd think something hard to find would be more expensive, like limited edition, hmm limited edition Airwalks, do they have those? Maybe I'm just missing something and not shopping my local sneaker barn enough. Props to Airwalks, let '94 live on. But something that baffles me even more than keeping 90's apparel alive that isn't flannels is "silky button ups". Granted this term is not dictionary bound, but has defiantly planted ground in my vocabulary almost daily.You too have seen this divine piece of garment worn at your local market, the mall, and even worse, THE club. This "silky button up" consists of just that, a button up that is somewhat flow like material that usually is kept for middle aged golf players hitting balls in Florida, but also has one key element that crosses the line from golf pro to "how old are you again?" There usually is some sort of tribal all over print overlaying an obnoxious colored shirt that looks like a sunset, or some sort of ferocious animal such as a panther or my personal favorite, Dragon Ball Z. The kind of people that wear the unmistakeable silky button up are never surprising, it's just surprising they detached from their game console for a brief moment to hit the food court. But then there's the once and a while too good to pass up dude that embodies the button up better than the Worlds of Warcraft nerds, "the Player." This black guy (out of the norm, its usually asians and acne white dudes) guy on the bus was "the Player" in full effect. He wore the fuck out of his Bangle Tiger silky button up, it was even accented with Asian characters to give it extra flare. What really did it for me though, was the black tribal against his skin, hard to make out, but undeniable. This Bud's for you mister silky button up cool guy, for wearing it out in public and rocking that fake platinum chain so hard almost makes you legit in my book. Not only is riding the metro awkward 8 out of 10 times mostly because I'm the only blonde person to grace the aisle, but because of the siting vs. standing arrangement. This morning as I decided to sit in the mid section of the bus that connects the front to the back, just incase of an accident and we jack knife I'll be the first to go. But because of the time difference in my riding schedule the bus was packed and thank God I didn't have stand, but today, I would have much rather to do so. I had some Hispanic, navy blue Dickie's wearing, Cortez ese groping his Shy Girl baby moma standing right on top of me. Normally, I wouldn't mind such a situation, but when the situation heads south and your Papi straddles my knee and obviously is grinding me not going with the rocking of the bus, I'm likely to have issues. It might be one of the rare instances in which I had no idea what to do, I couldn't move my legs, I'm not going to be all "hey I'm not really into playin pony today, so could you get the fuck off?," and I'm not about to scrap some baby oil haired bitch about her joke of a man. So, I suffer. Dear metro, you are at times extremely awkward. 


I could have certainly over looked the gems that were presented to me this after noon on my way home, but why? As I was entering the surprisingly on time metro, I swear to God himself that Snoop Dogg got off. It all happened so fast, but with reasonable doubt I still believe that it was him. So the events that follow on this mini adventure are an accumulation of "wtf" and "fuck right off"s. My main goal is to be super sneaky undercover lurk specialist, and I do my job with ease and technique with the help of sunglasses and hard facial expressions. Behind my tinted lens I'm unbeknownst to you making eye contact, Mr. Bus go-er, and little do you know that while you are doing your best to lock eyes with me and create a craiglist misconnection, I am looking back throwing up in my throat. Like the Mexican dude sitting in the corner staring at me as if you REALLY DID have x-ray vision you fucking pervo making pouting faces at me like you're secretly blowing kisses. You can go ahead and fuck off. And the trashy bitch talking so loud that I can even hear her breathing patterns through her only 2 words "motherfucker" and "ouwhhhh" trying to talk as ghetto as possible to the cracked out black dude with 2 week old braids that are falling out and fro-ing around his head. I thought if this bus were to stop suddenly, I'd fly into her folds and get lost for weeks. And ultimate creep move of the day, the he/she that sat down, lurked the bus, then moved to the open seat right in front of me and stared at me the remainder of the ride while you also played on your nintendo DS, diddling yourself. FUCK YOU BENCH SEATING! goddamn the bus. But its so good at the same time.



Also, completely irrelevant to the bus, but more to Los Angeles Valley College guy student body. Attention to all guys that believe they are fashionable, Ed Hardy is not fashionable. And while we're at it, lets just give a huge shout out to any dude that thinks Ed Hardy looks good, it doesn't. Sorry to burst your bubble.


Wednesday, October 22, 2008


So for my Journalism English class, we are obviously given at least 8 papers to write per week and at least one of them have to be a short narrative essay. Writing creative essays out of no where with mild inspiration every week can be a daunting task which sometimes depletes my "no ends" brain to feeling like I have a raisin in my skull. So to end the constant dread of keeping up with the one of a kind witty reputation I've made for myself in class, I decided to write all my narrative essays on my insane metro experiences. Seeing as though I ride nearly every day, I'm almost guaranteed at least one crazy person screaming about religion to the whole back of the bus, spitting while they talk and living in a world where they think people are actually listening. This is one of my recent essays, I am so easily entertained, it's magical. 

Every day I ride the bus to school, and every day its a new and always exciting story. I wake up ridiculously early for school to give myself enough time to get ready or figure if I want to sleep in, but without a doubt, I will miss the bus. I have a routine, I ride my bike to the bus platform and as I pass by I watch the bus dock and take off before I make it across the street to lock my bike up. That gives me enough time to walk across the street back to the platform and wait for the bus to be late, but never in my favor. I climb aboard and search for the least creepy seating arrangement, sit, and people watch for the next thirty minutes til I arrive at my stop. People come and go, there are people that I consider the usuals and then there are the people that burn unforgettable images into my head associated with sounds and or smells. Just yesterday I sat on the three seat wide bench, giving optimal people watching view, the brightly colored seat next to me was open, and so were about fifteen other seats, but of course I will get the one individual that has to sit next to me, always. He was an older gentleman in relaxed attire that had been obviously relaxed in past its time. He smelled of someone working outside under the blistering sun for four days and used baby powder as an alter bath. I didn't mind, I'd turn the other way and continue on with watching the girl near the front of the bus lip sync to what looked like to me as R&B due to her head grooves and face making. But what I did not notice was that the man also had a Quizno's bag which could be filled with a lunch? No, it was defiantly a slightly brown leaking substance with the stench of my trash bins the day of pick up, accompanying that was a musk of Boon's Farm liquor as he breathed heavily over me like I didn't notice him staring at my body. I'm thinking to myself, "well at least men are still attracted to me" after my recent crash and burn of a relationship. But the awkwardness of this bus ride was going to an extreme as I felt it was necessary to explain to the man that if he didn't get back to his side of the seat, that I myself would make him. Thank God that at that very moment, it was my stop and my time to reflect on these events. I walked to class wondering what person starts their day out at ten am pounding not only Boon's Farm before they ride the bus, but even more caring around liquid garbage. Made me just say "people, they're so odd individually." And it's very true. Every time I ride the bus I feel like I get smarter, learning about our human race. The bus is always a good time, weather it's a bad time or not, I always have a story at the end of the day.


I'm starting a blog about my daily metro adventures, because they are just too good to not. Coming home every day with overly entertaining stories about the greater Los Angeles area bus rides should not go forgotten. There's the randoms, the usuals I seem to have a schedule with and the unforgettables that make riding the metro worth my 30 minute trips to and from school oh the more exciting. I live for riding the metro for this group of people as different as they are. People in general are odd, but people as an individual are fucking mind blowing.  

Dear dude at the back of the bus, I want you.