Yeah, you. That's right. The little chick yapping away on her cell phone on a crowded bus. The one whose conversation began with some sort of stupid party plans, then turned to the narration of the title of a newspaper article the man across from you was reading: "'Prohibition in Dolores Park Park: Crack Down on Booze'. No, omigod, I'm just reading this newspaper article in the SF Weekly." To which the person you were talking to must've responded by telling you that fags fuck and take drugs in Dolores Park because you then said, and I quote again, "Omigod, that's disgusting....that's disgusting...that's disgusting....Omigod, I'm so grossed out right now."
Well, you bleed from your twat once a month. I find that pretty disgusting, princess.
Then you called yet another one of your Mensa friends, and went on to tell the tale of why you were on the bus--because you'd left the hot iron on at home, and had to leave work to go home and turn it off. "But I told her and I think she was kind of upset with me, but I told her I was upset with myself, but omigod, I haven't missed a day, I've never come in late...."
As soon as a spare single seat opened up, I leapt up, tossed a glare your way, which you probably didn't notice, and now would like to offer you this advice: Shut the fuck up, and get off your cell phone when you're in a public place. No one--I repeat, no one--gives a fuck about your petty, insipid little life. You are lame. You are horrible. And you oughta be euthanized.
P.S. To my other fellow Muni bus passengers: when walking down the aisle of a crowded bus, please hold any bags you have in front of you so they do not knock against the knees of tall folks such as myself. Fucking cumquats.
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