We boarded the Dirtydog and as the bus pulled out of the station I honestly thought that it really wasn't that bad, thirty seconds later a guard came running alongside the bus screaming for it to stop as another family had to get on – what a difference thirty seconds makes.
This family can best be described as close relations of the lost cannibal tribe from The Hills Have Eyes – but without the charm. Momma got on first with lenses on her glasses so thick she could see sideways cackling like a drunken hyena, followed by her youngest whose teeth could be used as a coat-hanger, next along the aisle in this catwalk of in-breeding came the elder son who (I swear) hobbled onto the bus gurning like he had swallowed a terrapin, bringing up the rear was uncle Joe who in true horror-film-cliche fashion not only looked normal but was reasonably good-looking. We were not getting off this bus alive that much was clear.
Momma and young Frankenstein not only sat right behind us (of course) they also asked another bloke to move so he had to sit in front of me – it was then I discovered he smelt like a three week old burrito. The first thing he said to the stranger next to him was 'Did you know there is an organisation that control everything?' I could see his heart sink.
Elder Frankenstein spent the whole journey asking pertinent questions;
"Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, did the Seahawks beat the Raiders?'
"Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe, are you a dingleberry?'
Young Frankenstein spent the journey eating hash browns which he didn't have to take out of the wrapper.
I know it's not big or clever to laugh at stupid people, but by christ it is enjoyable.
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