Truro to Plymouth to the North
I chatted freely with a very attractive law student on route to Cheltenham, but the train was small and crapped for the duration of the journey to Manchester(I'd get off at Birmingham New Street) so I decided to hop onto the direct one from Plymouth to Leeds: the 12:23 is larger and I've found a forwards facing seat that's not reserved.
We discussed the bell average in classroom education, pointless degrees, why red wine and coke is so popular in Madrid, whether torture is justifiable, whether she'd come and suck my cock or some such nice torture. I noticed the trees have been chopped down, in vast drifts, from Par to Looe: I think there is a disease afflicting them currently and the forestry commission are try to prevent the spread from the south west with this 'cull'.
I've felt unable to speak since Wednesday and my job trial started: I was engrossed in the novel I read, but then after that was finished I found what locals I met in the Victory, etc didn't want to converse with me: as an outsider?
In Plymouth I get some sustenance from the Spar and eat it on platform 6, but very shortly I am interrupted in my happy morning air.
A family: 1 mother, 2 teenage girls, 2 young boys and 1 push chair aged(daughter of a teenage girl?) from Plymouth all with black greasy and matted hair, Lonsdale, Reebok Classics and Goldie looking chains: chav. They sat on the same chair bickering and making waves of ADHD noises with the whole platform to continue their manic percussion. I moved well along the platform(6 coaches) ate a banana and finally stepped onto coach D. Sat for 2 minutes when said chav ensemble clattered to my coach shouting, bawling and wailing. I spoke to the two young and very loud boys 'there are other persons on this train' they looked shocked. The mother's mother gathered her daughter's daughters push chair outside with trails of lank and slimy dark hair flowing behind her red and radiating visage. I said 'fuck this' and moved a coach down.
Coach E to relax for 6 hours with a Scrumpy Jack I reach for in bag.
We discussed the bell average in classroom education, pointless degrees, why red wine and coke is so popular in Madrid, whether torture is justifiable, whether she'd come and suck my cock or some such nice torture. I noticed the trees have been chopped down, in vast drifts, from Par to Looe: I think there is a disease afflicting them currently and the forestry commission are try to prevent the spread from the south west with this 'cull'.
I've felt unable to speak since Wednesday and my job trial started: I was engrossed in the novel I read, but then after that was finished I found what locals I met in the Victory, etc didn't want to converse with me: as an outsider?
In Plymouth I get some sustenance from the Spar and eat it on platform 6, but very shortly I am interrupted in my happy morning air.
A family: 1 mother, 2 teenage girls, 2 young boys and 1 push chair aged(daughter of a teenage girl?) from Plymouth all with black greasy and matted hair, Lonsdale, Reebok Classics and Goldie looking chains: chav. They sat on the same chair bickering and making waves of ADHD noises with the whole platform to continue their manic percussion. I moved well along the platform(6 coaches) ate a banana and finally stepped onto coach D. Sat for 2 minutes when said chav ensemble clattered to my coach shouting, bawling and wailing. I spoke to the two young and very loud boys 'there are other persons on this train' they looked shocked. The mother's mother gathered her daughter's daughters push chair outside with trails of lank and slimy dark hair flowing behind her red and radiating visage. I said 'fuck this' and moved a coach down.
Coach E to relax for 6 hours with a Scrumpy Jack I reach for in bag.
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