The MTA Ate My Balls


I hate all of you.

I hate you surly subway worker, stuck in a plexiglass box with your Faustian bargain of generous benefits and high salary, knowing one day you will be disembowled by robot conductors and computer replacements.

I hate you bedandruffed MTA bureaucrat, trapped in your Albany cubicle, only let loose to the Hyatt to negotiate a deal that will keep your needless job in place. I'm also guessing you donated to Pataki.

Banana Nutrament getting political again.

But only cos I have to lace up my boots, put on two coats, hat, mittens, and walk across the Brooklyn Bridge plus a few more miles to get to work.


Out Hud - The L Train Is a Swell Train and I Don't Want To Hear You Indies Complain
(noto bene, it's been ages since I lived near the L train)

Erlend Oye with Morgan Geist - Ghost Trains


Could be worse.