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During the tourist season each year we hear the sounds of buses going psat our door on an hourly basis, along with the words "This is Broad Street. On the left..." as they pass by, carrying the foreigners who have decided that Stirling is one of those places whose history they have to learn.

I just heard the first one of the year, it's as much a sign of the coming year as the daffodils in the graveyard and the first of the fat, lazy bumblebees (3 weeks ago and last weekend, respectively).

Retaliation

Date: 2002-04-21 03:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] octopoid-horror.livejournal.com
Hmmm... brain too full of stompy industrial and angry Transmet.

Doktor Nick prescribes ultraviolence, and lots of it! Nooo, not the -band-..

Install yourself in the front room of the flat, at one of the windows, armed with a lethal quantity of weapons-grade radioactive materials.

When a bus passes by, use a pair of tongs to hurl the chunk of radioactive matter into the top of the bus, preferably into the lap of a teenager or newly-wed couple...

Then shout "Ha-ha! I've irradiated your precious ovaries/sperm [delete as applicable].. try enjoy the rest of your empty childless life now, you scum-sucking slimeball! And I hope you grow a new head!"

Or alternatively fill yourself with PCP, paint yourself bright green, then leap naked but for a coat of gloss paint from your roof into the next bus to come by, screaming like a banshee and laying about yourself with a tomahawk. And then eat their faces.

I'm none too fond of tourists, having moved from one tourist town down south into another.

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