Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Green_Homer, Jan 22, 2007.
The heart of the site is the forum area, including:
A late train out of Euston 2 years ago, a middle aged woman sees the ticket inspector making his way down the train, attempts to hide in the toilets, he susses, and asks her to come out so he can see her ticket, she then barges past him to her seat, where she sits down, closes her eyes, and proceeds to 'snore' loudly in a desperate attempt to feign being asleep.
End result, a fine, and the last time I go anywhere on the train with my mother.
No one sits near me on trains because I'm usually drunk, so someone will probably add a tale about one of my drunken shenanigans and embarrass me.
Can't remember where we were going but there were quite a few of us on a train heading north. Probably going to Catterick but not sure. Some geezer starts talking to us in broken English and it turns out he is a rep for a Spanish wine or sherry company. Out comes very large suitcase with samples in it. Silly thing to do with a load of thirsty squaddies around and I'm afraid he didn't have any left by the time we got off. He was in a bit of a nark with us for some reason but getting the hump with a load of drunken squaddies was a bit stupid.
Back in the 80's when i was at AAC Chepstow, on leave you used to get all the jocks travelling up by train at the same time. Was feckin pandemonium.
Four of us at one table were swigging booze like it was going out of fashion, I think we were all 17. One of the lads ate a bar of chocolate then demolished a bottle of southern comfort then passed out on the table. Wasn't long before he puked it all up. The table was covered in what looked like a runny cow pat and the carraige feckin stunk.
Needless to say there weren't many civvi's left in there for long.
Got meself rightly embarrassed on the train once 'cos a bunch of dudes were misbehaving on the way to Eastbourne. I'm travelling a couple of stops further on, in the bogs, with my jazz mag and lo and behold, stops at Eastbourne and the next thing you know there are two transport fuzz looking through those little clear circles at me in the cubicle from the platform. They were looking for the bad dudes but found me!
Indignation with a large amound of shame . . .
Plane... the only crab with style.
When autopilot first came out a mate of mine (Malaysia I think) was in an RAF passenger aircraft. The pilot walked backwards down the aisle with two pieces of string (supposedly attached to the steering thingy) and went into the toilet at the back.
Great laugh!... until the pilot got sacked... bastwards eh! See... despite popular belief, they didn't have a sense of humour back then either.
I never see any of these strange people on the train or bus. As I always sit right in the middle (and sometimes have to shout quite loudly at the people to move) you'd have thought that I'd be ideally placed to see them. Also, driving round and round the same loop on the same bus while drinking endless cans of special brew would give me plenty of time to spot them but I never do. My invisible friend who I talk to incessantly has never seen them either. I'd give 'em a piece of my mind if I did see 'em mind, cummin 'ere, 'takin our jobs, spyin' on us and puttin' poison in the water, I tole' em I did I tole' em it's all the government trying to rule our minds......
Christ buses and trains are shocking for weirdo's.
I use the train alot at the moment.
I just love those button activated toilet doors because there's always someone who doesn't press the button to lock. So you'll get someone walk up press button to open and there's some muppet sat on the toilet in horror because half the coach can see them.
Not exactly a weirdo on a train, as he didnt make it that far
Going to London one Saturday morning, I parked my car and got my parking ticket, when I noticed a bloke whod parked near me. He locked his car, then went around checking all the doors, several times each.
Then he walked off a couple of yards, went back to the car, checked the doors again several times, walked away, went back and checked them again, and kept repeating the procedure for about ten minutes.
I stood their watching him, concluding that he was obviously suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder. When hed finally convinced himself that his car really was locked, he headed off to the station with me following.
I stood behind him in the queue for the ticket office and just as he was about to go up to the counter I tapped him on the shoulder and said Excuse me mate, I think you left your car unlocked.
He dashed off to the car park and he hadnt reappeared by the time the train left. Oh well, another bit of bad karma to add to my blackened soul!
Little old lady sits across from me,comments "Isn't it a beautiful day?" and then launches into a long explanation about "How the European Union is the Beast out of the Bible's Book of Revelations".I cannot escape so all I can do is nod and humour the mad old bat.The only good thing to come out of it was I invited her to come and visit me (at someone else's adress )
Being a regular commuter from Warrington to Manchester daily.
My trains are usually full of whinging scousers.
I find that barking like a small terrier keeps the smelly, foul accented, can't pronounce the letter "T" in any word, gits well away from me.
I leave the train refreshed, relaxed and free of any contagious scouse-ness !
Top Result !!
Yeap been there. Train from Hull to Nottingham. Damm train broke down went into bogs for a thrap. Into my vinegar stroke when a young lass opens the door seeing me with cock in hand. British Rail were arrse. Not only was the train broken the bloody toilet door lock was aswell. Well I didnt finish off. Washed my hands and went to sit down with the girl and her mum pointing at me and mumbling something like dirty basterd. Embarresed VERY.
I try and make an effort to do my buisness before we leave the station because you can bet any money as soon as you get it out to piss, the train will sway like a mad man and seeing as the floor covered in wet toilet paper and piss it's a bugger to stay upright without pissing yourself.
Carol Thatcher tells a yarn AGAINST her late dad, Dennis.
Dennis was fond of using public transport and often travelled by train. On one particular journey to Brighton, he was walking the corridors looking for somewhere peaceful where he could quietly get on with reading his paper.
He eventually found an empty carriage, even for that journey at that time of day but thought no more of it. Got settled into his paper, ignoring the signs posted on the train windows. Two stops later, the carriage filled up with 30 patients from the local mental hospital, all bound for a day at the sea-side.
On completing a head count, one of the nurses noted the 'extra' number. They checked each of the patients and by the count of 20 had arrived alongside Dennis. "And who might you be?" the nurse enquired.
"I'm the Prime Minister's husband" huffed Dennis. 21, 22,23 etc went the count onwards.
Separate names with a comma.