Learn Some Fucking Manners!

I have the luxury, by living in a major metropolitan area, of having a half-decent public transportation system to get me around. I don’t own a car, but if I did, you could damn fucking well expect me to bitch and moan about shitty fucking drivers.¹ It amazes me how people on the fucking bus or subway have no fucking clue how to behave on it. Christ on a fucking cracker, many of you people take the same fucking bus and same fucking subway train every day, and you still haven’t figured out how to behave? Honestly, is there something in the fucking water?

Rule Number One: Shut the fuck up!

Okay, kids, when I grew up, my parents taught me that you talk a certain way when you’re in a confined space. They called this the “inside voice.” When you use your “inside voice,” you fucking talk quietly. You talk quietly so you’re not fucking pissing off the other people near you. So, for fuck’s sake, please fucking be fucking quiet. Have a conversation quietly with the person next to you. Don’t talk so fucking loud that every other fucking person on the fucking bus can hear you. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if your conversations were fucking interesting, but they’re not. I don’t give a fuck about who you almost got into a fight with. I doubt your friend does either. Shut the fuck up about it.

Beyond fucking conversations with others, keep it the fuck down on your fucking cell phone too. It’s not 1997 any more. Cell phones are now good enough that you can speak normally and be heard clearly on the other end. Of course, it’s pretty fucking rude to be on the fucking cell phone while you’re on the train anyway, so unless it’s a fucking emergency, keep it the fuck short. Honestly, what the fuck do you need to call someone up while you’re on the bus, and have an hour-long conversation about, that can’t fucking wait until you’re somewhere private and quiet? Also, if someone fucking calls you, just fucking say, “Hey! I’m on the bus. Can I call you back when I get off?” If someone told me that, I’d say, “Sure. Call me back.” It’s fucking polite, you ingrates.

Also, if you’re listening to music, do us all a favor and invest in some headphones that fucking keep the sound in your ears. We don’t want to hear your shitty music. Turn it the fuck down. Besides, if you have it that loud, you’re going to fucking go deaf. At least with a decent pair of headphones, your hearing loss will be fucking private. It also goes without saying that you damn well better not fucking be blasting music with fucking speakers on the fucking bus or subway. I mean, Jesus-motherfucking-Christ, what the fuck is your problem if you’re doing this? It’s bad enough when it’s someone’s headphones, but nobody wants to have a fucking impromptu radio concert on the fucking subway. NO. FUCKING. SPEAKERS. If I catch you blasting music on a boom-box or some shit, I will fucking shove said device up your ass. Try and stop me, fuckshit.

Rule Number Two: Pay Attention to Your Fucking Kids

Honestly, what the fuck? If you have kids, and you need to take the fucking subway, I fucking feel for you. Shit happens, you got places to fucking go to, and you need to drag your fucking spawn along. Fine. I’ll deal with it. Just make sure you pay the fuck attention to them. If your little crotch-nugget is screaming, whining, yelling, crying, bitching, or anything of the sort, it will get on people’s nerves, and fucking fast. Do something to make the little brat shut the fuck up. Seriously. Don’t wait. Bitchslapping the little fuckstain might make you feel good, but probably will make the situation worse. By the way, the following techniques have been proven time and again to simply not work:

• Telling your child to “Shut up.” What kind of shitty-ass parent are you anyway? That’s just fucking shitty, especially if you add other threats to it. Bad fucking move.
• Politely asking your child to please be quiet, and being all coo-ey and not actually imposing any sort of fucking parental authority. You’re not your fucking kid’s friend, you’re a fucking parent.
• Ignoring them, but then I fucking repeat myself.

Don’t do any of those. Fucking idiot.

Also, make sure your fucking kid knows how to fucking behave in a pubic space. No fucking climbing on shit. No fucking with the other passengers. Be fucking quiet, talk in an inside voice, etc. I’m not on the fucking bus to interact with your kid. I am on the fucking bus because I am going home from work, am tired, and want to get back to my booze and porn, because I am a fucking adult.

Rule Number Three: Clean Up After Yourselves, You Disgusting Fucks

Oh fucking shit-Christ, I can’t tell you how many fucking times I’ve gotten on the subway, and regretted it, because the car is a fucking filthy, shit-encrusted mess. Why the fuck are you leaving fucking fast food wrappers on the floor, half-empty cups of coffee on the seats, fucking sunflower seed shells everywhere along with chicken bones, spilled drinks, this that and the next thing too. I’m not going to sit with someone else’s trash if I can help it. I’ll fucking stand through the fucking subway ride, and I will not be fucking happy about it.

If you have to fucking eat on the train, which I should point out is a fucking violation of the fucking rules on every fucking public transportation system in the fucking world, then fucking clean up after yourself. Put your waste in a container. Take your fucking trash off the train with you and put it in the fucking trash cans that are in the station. Every fucking subway station I’ve been in has fucking trash cans, and they’re rarely, if ever, too full to use. So, fucking use them, you disgusting shits. How would you like it if I got into your fucking house or car, and left a bunch of fast food wrappers and spilled my fucking soda? You’d probably be fucking pissed. I know they have fucking people to clean up the busses and subway cars. That’s not a fucking excuse. They’re not hired to be your fucking maids, so fucking learn to clean up after yourselves.

Also, all you little teenage fucks who think it’s so fucking hilarious to doodle on the seats or scratch up the fucking windows on the subway car or bus? I hope you get raped in the ass with those diamond-tipped pens you use on the windows. I hope it tears your rectum open and you die of fucking sepsis, you little fuckstains. I like to look out the window to see my stop, and I don’t want to stare at your misspelled name while I do it.

Conclusion

If you fucking animals would show some fucking consideration for your fellow passengers, then taking pubic transportation would be significantly less painful and annoying. It makes life easier for fucking everyone. If you want to be loud and and make a big fucking mess while getting to work, or where-the-fuck-ever you fucking people go during the day, buy a fucking car. You can make that as dirty and loud as you want, and you won’t be pissing me off (as much).

^1.Actually, I will, but from the view of the pedestrian.