blogging from a crowded bus

I am blogging from a crowded bus. I do not have any measure to estimate the number of people on the bus. It is a moderately crowded bus... an appropiate number of people per seat. We have arrived at Richmond and Dundas or actually Talbot and Dundas. I sat beside a hot chick and now have the entire seat to myself. There are a lot of strange people who ride the bus. I guess this is what people do. They ride the bus to their work and their jobs. There is an idiot standing in front of the bus. The bus has stalled. Bussses are unhealthy. A girl emarks. There is an eclectic range of people on this bus. In front of me are two very old people, they look like native americans. A checkoslovakian looking woman is in front of them. Generally people who ride the bus are unattractive, but perhaps there are rare exceptions. The bus is currently turning onto a street. Two passengers board the bus. Poppies are everywhere. The presence of poppies reminds me of the conversation I had with the German man not very long ago about the second world war. Sitting in the medical building at 450 central I encountered a man of German descent who described to me the circumstances in which he had been raised;. This bus route reminds me of my origin, growing up along the cove road. I wonder what bus I am on. I do not really care.
My vision is still a little blurry and I cannot quite express the proper vernacular to manouever my self. Sometimes I don't even know what I mean, which is a little frightnening. This is an old bus, packed to the brim of seats but no standers. What's up with that. We are near Eli and Raes house. Eli and Rae are in Mexico currently, part of their honeymoon. A strange looking foreigner is wearing a suit. I want to interview someone. It is not easy to interview someone on a bus.
The music keeps me entertained. Where is this bus heading. I am a long way from home. My toe feels numb because there is nerve damage in it. A stop has been requested. A couple depart. The girl wears the most interesting stockings. They seem a dire couple. Dreery. Probably unhappy. A fat bearded man leaves the bus. The bus is losing passengers. I count seven people in front of me and a few more behind me. The checkoslovaklian looking lady is still here. but a lot of the seats are empty. There are a lot of people behind me but I cannot describe what I cannot see. A girl gets off the bus. All I can see is her hair. It is very nice hair.
My left big toe hurts. It is an interesting pain. A pain of rebirth. The bus winds it's way through the streets.... somehow this bus get's people from their work to their home. Life is simple for most people. You work, get paid, go home, get up... Get on the bus get off the bus. I am at a light. The intersection is Andover and Beechwood - or something like that. There is a girl with beautiful brown hair getting off the buss. She just pulled the string that signals a stop. She is youthful. She departs. There are trees where we are. I am not sure what part of town this is. I want to interview someone. I guess it is in the south end of town somewhere. Hopefully this bus takes me back downtown... I am a long way from home. I want to interview someone... someone who has something interesting to say. Mostly I want to interview someone who just gets on the bus and has a long bus ride to go yet. The foreigner wearing a suit departs at some sort of a mall. I do not recognize this mall. London is a big city.
I just asked a girl if she would like to be the subjevt of a interview and she declined so I am going to blog about her. She is wearing a sweater and has several earings in her ear. I asked her if she wanted to be the subject of an interview... at first she tried ignoring me, then I repeated and she said "no thank you". She has ear buds in her ears and her hair is tied back in a pony tail. I can see four earings in her left year. She seems standoffish.
I just had a brief fight with the bus driver. Apparently he thinks it is wrong for me to blog on the bus and ask people questions. I do not care much for what he thinks. He even stopped the bus and yelled at me but I resolved the problem because someone needed to get their drugs and it wasn't me. Now the bus driver is radioing in what I am doing and complaining about it. I think that is rather funny. No matter where I go, no matter what I do I always get in some kind of trouble.
I am eager to get back to my apartment. Slowly the bus is filling again with people. There is a very cute girl sitting in front of me. I wanted to interview her but she had headphones in and could not hear me. She is wearing a purple hat and a black and white jacket. The fall is a wonderful time of year.