Attack of the Crazies

So, update:

The rule of attraction regarding the crazies seems to be holding firm.

On my way home from work on the bus yesterday, a VERY drunk man staggered on in an alarmingly horizontal manner. I actually thought he had fallen down; being stationary and horizontal and all, but it turns out he was just attempting to pick up his shoebox (?!) and bag in his bungalow-ed stupor. Once he had finally arranged all his belongings at the feet of another female bus passenger on the opposite side of the bus (who managed to pull off looking confused and annoyed all at the same time), he sat down, joy of joys, in front of yours truly.

Once he had arranged his alcohol-scented self into an acceptable seated position; he began to mutter things under his breath. I couldn't make it out at first, even though I had stealthily put my iPod on pause but retained the earphones (I should have been a spy). However, it seems that, in a serendipitous twist of fate and a harmonious aligning of the universe; he read my mind, and the decibel level of his mutterings increased to that of a full blown rant. A rant misguidedly aimed mainly at the innocent woman he was sat next to, who I believe he thought was his ex-wife. He continued along the lines of "*garble garble*...throw me out on the street...tell me never to come back *garble* never see my kid again...*swig from hip flask* I woke up and she was gone...*garble*" At this point I began to feel quite sympathetic towards him. He'd obviously been through a lot and it was just unfortunately spewing out of him in an intoxicated soliloquy on public transport. When the unsuspecting female passenger finally reached her limit and stood up to complain to the driver, the man immediately started on the offensive, "Oh so you g'on call the poh-lice on me? Well let me off yo' goddamn bus. You call the poh-lice I'ma smack you in the mouth." Interesting journey home to say the least. Thank God he got off before he realised how fascinated I was by the whole scenario.

Oh and in other news, my brand new kettle is on its way (woop) and the hand soap in my office loos smells like marzipan. It's offensive.

I'm off to try and write an RTC blog about Google Knowledge Graphs that doesn't sound like the ramblings of a retard.

Laterz xx