Transport parley

The new STA buses,  or perhaps there is only one which I am fortunate to catch most mornings to work, feature the most fabulously fat round STOP buttons that you press when you want to admonish the bus driver, dob in a fellow passenger, or even alight from Mr Jiggly Jiggly. These buttons are the size and shape  of yo-yos and are tomato sauce red with a yellow trim and I think S T O P is written in white on a red background. Very soothing and highly effective. Nifty, what.

When I have not been admiring these buttons, caressing them with my digits,  occasionally with my tongue; they do also resemble a lollypop/Wimpy burger, my focus in transit has been distracted by private transport, the rear windows and bumpers of cars, usually  some form of four wheel drive..  It would seem that The Baby on Board, Mum’s Taxi, Warning Nervy B Driver signs and stickers have been replaced, in fact, trumped by adhesive adornments that are even more nauseatingly self-congratulatory.  Yes,  I’ve finally noticed the “My family” stick figures stickers.

Oh the cult of the human and its tragic quest for further limelight hoggery, indivduality and validation. How much do these people and their faaaaamlies need?!   A rebate for lack of  awesomeness and being insufficiently surreal, I guess. Get a blog for cock's sake, that is what my bumper sticker sez. Incidentally, i've twice seen the word  J E S U S in big spaced out letters plastered across a car's rear windscreen.  I'm not sure if it is in honour of that crazy, delusional prophet (possibly sane compared to Apostle Paul) or if it's just a means of communicating vexation with one's quotidian when in jaloppy.

Did you know that you could fit the entire Queensland ALP opposition in a station wagon or mini bus? And if there is a ruction, well, crumbs, five of them could squeeze into my modest little hatchback and the other two on a motorcycle and sidecar. Stylish but a rum state of affairs.