MegaBus? Bus, yes. Mega, no!

It's 8:48pm, and the MegaBus driver is barmy.

No-one is wearing their seatbelt and ensuring their seat is in the full upright position as per the drivers instructions, and personally I'd be slightly more inclined to adhere to his advice of "if there's a fire or you see me running out of the emergency exit, try to keep up"; but just because he seems like the kind of guy you'd follow to the end of the Earth, if only out of morbid curiousity.

There's always a wonderful cross-section of human behaviour that goes on during a MegaBus journey.
My girlfriend for example is reading a book about a man who rapes prostitutes with chair legs before executing them in a variety of gruesome and probably pointless ways. Now this is a woman who won't watch Saw because she thinks it's "messed up". I'm yet to have the debate about whether a simple change of media makes it more acceptable to advocate meaningless torture. Maybe I'll save that for the third hour of our journey.
There's the acne ridden, spectacled 17-year-old boy that's probably never even smelt a woman before who's wearing a t-shirt bearing the slogan "nobody knows I'm a lesbian" and undoubtedly not realising the full irony of this statement. Then there's the Chinese (or they could be Japanese, I don't know the difference) couple who won't stop talking at a tempo that would perplex Speedy Gonzalez whilst they take photos of each other from on their camera phones, probably uploading them straight to facebook so their friends back home can mock the inferiority of our sub supersonic transport system. There's also the guy who sits smugly watching a Sex and the City DVD on his laptop next to some girl he quite obviously fancies in order to show her that he both owns a laptop but has a sensitive side too and probably also owns fluffy throw pillows. On the backseat there's the two morbidly obese guys asleep on each other who, despite choosing where to sit, still moan about being woken by the closing toilet door and the persistant smell of stale urine. Oh, and there's of course the mandatory crying baby. They should add "we will provide you with a crying baby" to the T&C's of the MegaBus website, as I'm yet to experience a trip without one. I suppose that's what I get for only stumping up £3.50 for the journey. It's a baby tax of sorts.

And then there's me, writing a blog on my iPhone, so a little bit smug, a little bit sensitive, a little bit lesbian, occasionally a bit of a baby and definitely a little bit barmy.
My girlfriend would probably say a little bit smelly too, but what does she know, she won't even watch Saw.