Live from the Metra

Twice this week already, there has been no bar car on the train ride home. First of all, WTF is up with that? I can't imagine that the bar car breaks; there's really nothing to break. Or that they ever clean that rolling health department violation. So, where the hell does it go?

Well the lack of the bar car, forces me to look like an even bigger alcoholic than I already do since I'm probably one of the only people on the train who has brought their own cup, ice and vodka with them. Well at least I had a cocktail (or three) while the rest of the losers were dry for the evening ride home. Ha!

Yesterday, Fat Religious Guy was sitting in the same car as the Mick and I sans the his hot foreign cult members. He was sweating profusely even though the train car was very cool. I was afraid he was going pick that day to take his big heart attack digger. Mostly because I was in a hurry to get home last night. Luckily, it appears his body was just trying to get rid of some of the extra Mountain Dew in his system; because his big sweaty ass got up and lumbered off the train at the stop before mine.

The Rooster hasn't been around too much on the train with The Mick and me. She prefers to ride with the geriatric alcoholics one train earlier than ours. Apparently, The Mick and I staring at her boobs isn't enough for her. She demands more attention that that and the dozen or so lecherous "Sugar Daddies" do it for her. Oh, the free wine on Thursdays and free vodka on Fridays probably have something to do with it as well. Have I mentioned that The Rooster could probably beat my ass in a fight? Cock a doodle Do!

Just my luck this morning, I was running late for work. Then The Wife's crappy SUV with no AC had a very low tire when I went out the jump in it this morning. This meant I had to run to the Pakistani run gas station by my house to get air in the tire making me miss the direct train to the office. I then had to take two trains to get to work. To make matters worse, while I was at the transfer station waiting for the second train which was also late, the Senior VP called me on my cell phone to find out if I could come to his office for a conference call. I may play the lottery later, because apparently I am due.

Well I better run. My office is starting to look like a bomb went off.