A particularly unsavoury story in the news on Friday concerned a man who stabbed and beheaded a fellow passenger on a Greyhound bus as it trundled across the Canadian prairies.
Having traversed Australia in the same way I know just how boring long Greyhound journeys can be, and have previously in this blog, documented a succession of journeys during which my lovely wife and I were forced to watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding seven times on the on-board telly.
By the fifth viewing I was losing the will to live; by the sixth, the red murderous mist was starting to descend, and by the seventh, the sweet release of death itself would have been welcome reprieve to the constant jaunty bouzouki music and cross-cultural gaggery.
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1 comment:
ha ha! Fond memeories my love...
Mrs C.
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