Archive for November, 2014


I’d been baking a choad for two hours and inadvertently let a little Tommy Squeaker go whilst loading some oldies onto the 13. Not proud of it, but it couldn’t be helped. I opened the window but it had some real hang time and, as the first little old lady got on, I felt I had nowhere to hide. Then, as if by magic, the Bristol Poo Bus trumpeted past and parked up in front of me.

Me: (loudly) Ooh look. It’s that bus that runs on human waste.
Little old lady: Ooh, it does smell, doesn’t it? It’s disgusting.
Me: Win!

True story.


Got caught ‘playing drums’ on different parts of the steering wheel by a little old lady.

LOL: Ooh, what song are you playing?
Me: It’s called ‘Granny, Go Home’
LOL: That’s nice


Strange Old Man: How long to Camden Crescent?
Me: Well, we go around the houses a bit; at least 45 minutes
SOM: Oh…
Me: The 6 gets there more quickly. What’s the rush?
SOM: (Holds up plastic bag and winks) You see, I have some fish in here 
Me: Awesome

Much Obliged

Older guy gets on the 6 to Fairfield Park, by Walcot Church in town. He’s wearing a tweed jacket, mustard-coloured trousers, brogues and a suspiciously-stained royal blue turtle neck. He’s impossibly posh, with a voice that makes Donald Sinden sound like Ray Winstone, and is brandishing a dripping umbrella that’s big enough to cover most of Giant Haystacks

Me: Hello
Older Guy: Ah, hello there. I need the stop just after Bennett Street please
Me: Sure. Just ring the bell, if you would
OG: (Puzzled) Well, I believe that it is a scheduled stop.
Me: We don’t stop at every stop, just when requested
OG: Ah. Good to know these things. And the fare?
Me: £2.20
OG: I say, really? Fascinating. Can you change a £20?
Me: Into what?
OG: Beg pardon?
Me: Take a seat sir
OG: Much obliged