Riding the B.U.S.

Or in this case the train, but it's all the same anyway.

You see, there comes a time in a man's life ( or woman's life, sometimes a child's life and perhaps even a well trained monkey's life) where you decide to make something of yourself. For me this time has come.

I've decided that I need to be rich, to distinguish myself from the rest of humanity through something meaningful. Sure there's other ways to be distinguished, but I feel the presidency to soiled for my tastes. So I'm thinking of ways to get money, lots of money, enough for a stable living environment or some peace of mind. Not too much money mind you, just enough to get off the train.

So far all I have is the first space McDonalds, and even then I'll have to give over some royalties or franchise fees. But I am working on a space mcnugget recipe to beat the gravitational sickness brought on to unprepared space tourists. And I think McDonalds will bite, they already have a paddle boat McDonalds here on earth, why not a starship McDonalds?

Bottles and Cans.

It's easy to overlook the smal stuff, especially when there are so many distractions. A recently proposed and passed city initiative will provide the public with a 8.2 million dollar addition to downtown.

I wonder when I'll stop tripping over these bottles and cans on the train. Could we please hire more janitorial staff, or at least sentance people to not only clean highways but also public transport? I mean, really , why am I (without a car or hopes for one soon) concerned with the cleanliness of route forty? I would much rather have a seat on the train void of bubblegum.

Also, Father _______ is still hanging onto the hope of the Cardinals, I only mention because my former blog partner lives in San Diego and as Father ________ has informed me, the Padres didn't fair to well in recent games against Father ________'s team.