It’s the
Futuristic whirring sound of the mechanical loo that
Makes my heart tremble.
Tea!
The temperature of a volcanic
Geyser.
As I wobbled my way through the aisle
bleeding its Tetley pus onto my
trembling, burning hands;
Ouch!
Couldn’t anyone
Find a fucking way to
Serve tea at any less than 37,000 degrees Celsius
and scalding your skin off if you happen to spill a drop on the bouncing,
shaking, trembling train? Sorry I’m not trying to be a **** but it cost me
about £3.50 for this cup of sculpted stryoplastic into which a “shop” attendant has hurled an
orphaned teabag into the stew of boiling water like it was a used condom and
really you’d think that if you were going to run a national rail service then
you’d consider the fact that
(cont. on p. 69)
