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THESE ARE THE TRAINS OF OUR LIVES… 7.7.08

ACELA – Ass – Hella

Lemme tell ya, once you get used to this train, that’s what you’re going to have because you will Never want to ride another rickety, musty, overcrowded, I can run faster than this ramshackle carriage Regional AMTRAK train anywhere – period. I mean, you will want to go to Boston, DC, Philly or New York just for the hell of it.

There’s only business or first class, so you’re guaranteed a cushy seat, decent eats and hushed peeps because almost all of the cars are designated “Quiet” – which means shut the hell up, please, I really don’t want to listen to you recounting your 4th of July in the Hamptons with Muffy and Biff all the way to the nation’s capital, thanks.

Recently re-vamped – sheesh, its better?! – the Acela is worth every penny you’ll spend on a roundtrip, trust.

Ride it, you’ll like it – I’m addicted..and my ass is spreading to prove it.

Loco-motive, L

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PATH to destruction…

Who is the demented troll that runs the Port Authority? And why hasn’t someone snatched the wheel of leadership from his crusty hands?

Have you ever been victimized by the PATH train? The achingly slow movement? The few and far between frequency of the trains at rush hour? The seats that are, dollars to donuts, always filled by men that refuse to budge for pregnant women, senior citizens or small fatigued children? Are you basically gassed by the underarms, morning breath and silent but deadly flatulence that you cannot escape because of the stellar ventilation system and 500 body count per train car? Do you watch for the alerts on your morning news network, prepare an alternate route to work and find that when you arrive, gee they really are running on schedule and it was simply a cruel trick of the troll to broadcast delays? Do you pine to get home but find the the PATH has curiously shutdown riiiiight before you get off due to some mysterious non-fatal fire that nobody knows about but the troll and his workers?

I hate the PATH, it is the bain of my meager commuter’s existence – but its all I’ve got…gotta run, right now its running slightly behind schedule – if I wait any longer someone will leap to their death on 33rd st and screw up my whole night.

Peace, L

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The Infamous N and the Reticent R – need I say more? Everyday that I am forced to utilize these deathwagons, is yet another day I become a tad more understanding of that wack ass face mask MJ wears. C’mon MTA, are you serious???

Is it not mud in our eye that all of the Lite Lines (read light skin read white folk – keep up) have these state of the art, air conditioned, glide along the track, angels singing as you are whisked off to your destination and given complimentary coffee train cars?! My bad, that’s my neurotic imagination in overdrive but that’s what it SEEMS like when you’re on the green line, ‘specially round the Holidaze – but get on the rickety as a drunk donkey 2 or the ride at your own risk G and you find yourself humming old negro spirituals about overcoming.

My particular riff with the Transit Gods is this; how, in a world where everything has been packaged from sperm to tick shit, are yall NOT able to freakin ventilate, or, OR, at the very least torturous, DEODORIZE the 34th street N,R,W,Q uptown station???? For the love of baby Jesus, WHY must I, like clockwork, have to begin gagging on my two hundred dollar Grande Skim Toffee Nut Misto every damn morning when I hit the 5th or 6th step? Why must my choices be to either toss it into the garbage or give it to Moe, my homeless pal with the gangrene who sleeps on the 3rd bench down, depending upon how full it is, because it smells like Godzilla crapped directly into the air ducts? I have never, fa true, smelled any non-bathroom as rank as this station – if the Mayor wasn’t so congested with the congestion pricing plan, perhaps he could smell the festering nastiness coming from the 7th Ave local – as if my day of forced plantation work wasn’t bad enough, I get to come into the office smelling like the chicks who work 11th Ave without tic tacs and every 10th cussie gets a complimentary rim shot – thanks rotten apple.

Shout out to Crissy Quinn, my fave Irish LezNationer for manning 311, the line you call if you’re a New Yorker with a problem – shout out to Verizon for never allowing us poor shmucks to get thru.

Sound Off! Tell us your public transit nightmare – it probably wont get your problem solved, but at least you’ll get that ish off your chest! Like gas, complaints are better out than in, yes?

Peace, L

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