Abusive
After a stinking wait in the vile sun I finally got into a filthy bus where a bunch of
bastards were squashed together. The most bastardly of these bastards was a
pustulous creature with a ridiculously long windpipe who was sporting a grotesque
hat with a cord instead of a ribbon. This pretentious puppy started to create because
an old bastard was pounding his plates with senile fury, but he soon climbed down
and made off in the direction of an empty seat that was still damp with the sweat of
the buttocks of its previous occupant.
Two hours later, my unlucky day, I came upon the same bastard holding forth with
another bastard in front of that nauseating monument they call the gare Saint-Lazare.
They were yammering about a button. Whether he has his furuncle raised or lowered,
I said to myself, he’ll still be just as lousy, the dirty bastard.