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It's rush hour and you see an entire cart on the train that's completely empty. A little piece of advice: It's too good to be true my friend, because I'm 99.9999999% sure that cart smells like the most horrible and offensive things you could ever imagine. Why??? because there's an unconscious homeless person laying across the seats screaming out random psychotic phrases in his sleep. So I suggest everyone listen to Agnes when she says " just walk yourself to another cart" Even if its crowded and you have to stand the entire way home, its better than inhaling the lethal fumes which emanate off this expired individual. However, if you enjoy that sort of thing, knock yourself out. literally.
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
Ok, I understand,you're sleepy right? You can rest your eyes, but when you start snuggling up next to me and begin to lean your dandruff infested head onto my shoulder, I'm going to want to hurt you. I couldn't get up because that would risk losing the seat I fought two other broads for. So I bumped my shoulder up which got my point across nicely. Within the matter of 2 minutes this schmuck was leaning on my shoulder AGAIN! Now I'm gonna wanna kill him, no? This time I threw in an elbow, how do you like me now?? Listen, if it takes an elbow to the side of your head for you to understand that sleeping on strangers in the train is a no-no, then you deserved it.
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
I should give this poor man some pointers, teach him to throw some 'bows.
So, ya know, I get it sometimes...it's rush hour and there are a buttload of people on the train and ya gotta live with it, okay? I get that. But when it's time for someone to get in or out, how 'bout you act like a human being and MOVE for a second? Afraid someone's gonna take your spot or something? RELAX, ya ain't paying rent on that door pal. So next time I elbow youz in the ribs or knock ya kid over, don't say ya didn't get fair warning. Buncha freaks. I'm not mad about it, I just hate all of you.Love, Edna
I have trouble believing that your heart can even beat at a consistent pace after what I witnessed at Canal street. Man on subway floor + wrapped in large amounts of tin foil + spoon + can = musical prodigy. Just joshin ya, but I am slightly concerned with the amount of aluminum foil this man had ensnared himself in, it cannot be healthy... On a positive note, I wonder if he was trying to find some sort of signal in the subway? Because I can tell you from experience that it's physically impossible. Lay off the drugs America.
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
What's more annoying than overhearing what someone is listening to on their portable device? HEARING IT ON SPEAKERPHONE. I really don't understand how people's brains work... Is it that you'd like to share your poor quality excuse for music with everyone else on the train? As if someone is really going to approach you and compliment you on your fine taste in music? Or are you perhaps trying to start a dance party on the train??? Please do us all a favor and buy yourself a little something called H E A D P H O N E S.
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
Some lucky nose picker picked himself a winner today and wiped it off on his neck.
Just when you think you've seen it all, someone whips out a boob. A little face emerges from a spongebob blanky and I can't help but look around thinking "are we in Zimbabwe or somethin? " Most women have the common courtesy to cover themselves with their shirt in public, no? I never really had a problem with what people's lunches looked like on the train, but when a DD melon is staring you in the face, it's a little hard to ignore. Don't get me wrong, breastfeeding is natural and a baby has got to eat. I find passing gas to be just as natural, but you don't see me nuking up the place. Do yourselves a favor and put some clothes on, you kids these days have no shame.
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
Alright. I'm a woman, you're a guy, we're both on the E train, right?? Okay. Perhaps we're standing or sitting relatively close to eachother. Does that mean I like you? NO. Does that invite you to talk to me? NO. In fact, you thinking you can whisper sweet nothings in my ear while I'm already miserable in a crowded, disgusting box of torture should give me the unrestricted right to judo chop you in the hip...freak. I'm not your mother, so don't 'mamacita' me. I happen to stand at a proud 5'6'' (even without the cane), so don't 'shorty' me, sonny. Oh and don't offer me your seat just so you can awkwardly stand your weewa five inches from my face and engage in an undesired conversation. NO. Should I say it in Spanish? NO. French? NO. Get it? I don't have an anger problem, I swear. I just hate all of you.
Have a good one.Love,Edna
Because soliciting money on the train isn't illegal enough, it has now become a personal talk show where people feel the need to give unnecessary details about their personal lives. Nobody wants to hear that you are HIV positive or how much crack you used to smoke when you were mad at the world--It's not going to make me give you my money. If you want pity go on Oprah. She probably wont give you any money though......Maury is always open!
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
After a long days work all I can ask for is a peaceful ride home. It's too bad that my only decent way of getting there is taking the 7. My ride started off to a shockingly good start since everyone managed to keep their ear bleeding voices down to a, yes I can't believe I'm typing it, quiet tone. Nevertheless, in walks Pablo and his mariachi band of five, where Pablo decides to sing and play his accordion six inches away from my ears which are now bleeding with every ounce of self pity I have left. After what felt like light years of watching the Telemundo channel, Pablo and his posse finally finish and move on to the next set of poor passengers in the other cart. I dream of the day when that special some one... somewhere out there, decides to get up and smash that accordion to billions of pinto bean sized pieces. Let's pray that I will someday witness this act of greatness in the near future.
Bless ya hearts,
Agnes
Siderodromophobia, or fear of trains, is surprisingly prevalent amongst many New York commuters. This common fear of the underground hell that we call the subway may also be contributed by possible phobias such as claustrophobia, social phobia, or germophobia. Symptoms may include physical effects such as shaking, sweating, crying, gagging, twitching, heart palpitations and gastrointestinal symptoms. Other indications may include sudden behavioral disorders when entering the subway or train such as high levels of anxiety, agitation, rage, the sudden urge to punch a stranger or extreme restlessness. This may be treated with cognitive behavioral therapy, where you will be taught to redirect your negative thoughts about trains into positive experiences such as pretending like it never happened. Speaking openly can also be used as a form of therapy, and particularly useful when traced to the moment of psychological trauma. Consider this a safe place of honesty and clean judgement where my century old pal Edna and I discuss our series of unfortunate events witnessed on the subway. Welcome and bless ya hearts.
Agnes
It's rush hour and you see an entire cart on the train that's completely empty. A little piece of advice: It's too good to be true my friend, because I'm 99.9999999% sure that cart smells like the most horrible and offensive things you could ever imagine. Why??? because there's an unconscious homeless person laying across the seats screaming out random psychotic phrases in his sleep. So I suggest everyone listen to Agnes when she says " just walk yourself to another cart" Even if its crowded and you have to stand the entire way home, its better than inhaling the lethal fumes which emanate off this expired individual. However, if you enjoy that sort of thing, knock yourself out. literally.
