Friday, November 30, 2012

This really happened

8:40 am.
On the subway.
Stand near two seats. Can overlook a woman's shoulder. See that she's typing a text message on her iPhone. Notice that signal meter is nil.
She's typing. She sends text. She waits.
Thirty seconds later, she texts in all caps: WHY ARENT U ANSWERING ME???
She huffs. Sends the text. Taps foot.
Train rattles on. She sends another text. U R SUCH A LOSER. WHY DO I BOTHER!!!!
Couldn't help myself. Don't know who she is texting but there is no service in TTC tunnels.
I ask her if she's trying to use her phone and tell her it won't work in the tunnels.
She panics. Says, "Oh shit ...". Asks me how to get the texts out of the phone. Asks if they will still send.
I say I don't know.
She bolts off the subway at the next stop.

Vintage train coach, refurbished, at Oshawa rail yards

I'm a history nerd. I like old shit.
When I was little, I used to harass the neighbourhood kids and my sisters to play "olden days" with me.
I always lived in 1801 and had a horse and carriage with candle-lit lanterns. This kid, Alex, always had to be fucking Superman bringing it like it was 1988 even though I would yell at him that there was no Superman in the "olden days".
Then, years later, this stupid Heritage Minute commercial showed up on the CBC one night about Joe Shuster running towards a train, JUST LIKE THE ONE I SAW THIS MORNING, carrying a drawing of a dude in tights who was faster than a bullet.
Friggen Alex, he never shut up about it. The 1930s were hardly the "olden days", but that damn commercial and its really old train coach didn't help. He still thought it was the 1800s when Superman was "invented".

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Did you ride the Lakeshore East after 4 pm on November 21? You may qualify for a service credit

Today is the last day to file so giddy-up on that. For those that don't know, trains were delayed for over 20 minutes due to a broken switch.

My BFF and another train buddy (yes, you Al) filed last week and just received confirmation that, as per GO's Service Guarantee, their requests for a credit to their Presto cards have been approved and are being processed.

Because I'm a skeptic, I held off. Now that I've got proof GO is playing nice, and good on GO by the way, I've applied for a credit. You should too.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Damn you PATH. Damn you

So the idea was I would eat one a day. I bought these this morning. I ate them all.

Agreed. Nowhere else but on mass transit would you voluntarily sit this close to another stranger

Photo courtesy of @paulsurette

In case you were wondering about the train ride home last night after the Grey Cup

People on Twitter were upset with the lack of crowd control at Union Station and that there weren't enough GO trains to handle the crowds. It was standing room only on many coaches.

Photo courtesy of @Smiley008

The Grey Cup special

Apparently many of you Argos fans were doing a good job at pissing off weekend regulars considering the texts and emails I got.
Here's the thing, sure, screaming, "Arrrrrrrgooooos" a few times shows enthusiasm but repeating it about 300 times during a 1-hour train ride makes you a douche, as demonstrated by a reader who claimed after listening to "Arrrrrrrgooooos" for 45-minutes straight prompted her to yell out, "Dooooouuuuchebaaaaag". This resulted in a verbal exchange on the platform at Union between this woman and three, 20-something year old men. Security was summoned.
So you can dish it out, but you can't take it, so you decide to push around a 30-year old woman?

Stinky bus ride

This morning I climbed aboard my usual GO bus, happy to see that my regular driver had returned. Last week, we had a new "spare" driver every day. Only one knew where he was going. Three of them tried to turn right onto Bloor Street in Oshawa instead of left towards the GO station which was met with a chorus of "Go left!" from people on the bus.
One driver had difficulty seeing the GO bus stops (I agree, the signs could be bigger) and drove past a few people who then had to run a good 300 meters to where he came to a squealing stop after passengers told him he had missed picking people up.
He missed the Oshawa Centre. I have no idea how one misses the Oshawa Centre, but he did. All of us were patient and gracious. We understand these temporary drivers are from other routes and do their best. It helps to have regular passengers willing to guide a driver to his destination.
Anyhoodles, back to this morning. I tapped my Presto card and moved towards a seat at the back. Within seconds of turning towards to the back of the bus I was assaulted with a waft of cooked cabbage.
So I turned back towards the driver, "What in God's name is that awful smell?" I asked him.
He sniffs and says, "The bus was just cleaned."
I said, "What were they using, cooked cabbage leaves? Is it a new Febreeze fragrance?"
He shrugged, claiming the bus smelled fine to him.
A man turned to me and said he could smell something funky, saying he thought it was just someone eating breakfast.
Gagging, I said loudly, "I honestly don't want to know what kind of breakfast that is... it stinks!"
I sat down, burying my nose in my scarf.
As the bus made its way towards the station, I was watching the reactions of people climbing onto the bus. We're so gracious as a society sometimes. People scrunched up their noses and made faces but no one other than me questioned the smell.
I am telling you, buy a cabbage, boil it and then carry the pot to a bathroom and shut the door. Go in after 20 minutes.
Worst smell ever.
I know this story is lame but I promised a few people I would try to write a post for today. This is all I've got - cooked cabbage on a bus.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

In case you were looking for some scrap metal

Photo courtesy of EC@Everywhere

According to this Toronto Star article, it will "cost GO about $35,000 to remove all the machines, including labour and the separation of the parts" and "there are no buyers for the units. That means the electronic parts will be separated from the metal and disposed of by a contractor that certifies an environmentally sound method."


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

My 7 year old found this hysterical - a transit PSA written to keep people off train tracks

Oh, those Aussies, they're so damn creative. Some of the best road safety PSAs have come out of Australia and now Metro Trains has released this gem:

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

The PATH is a dangerous place

Now that my foot is better and I'm able to walk without feeling like my foot is being squeezed by a vice with every step, I've gone back to walking underground to and from work.

This is the part where I should mention that I have lost 26 pounds since October 5 of last year.

The biggest changes I made in my lifestyle were giving up sugar, eliminating processed foods, giving up my car (and abandoning the drive-thru) and eating more fresh vegetables. The sugar part was the hardest part - it just about killed me because it's in everything! But you know what's harder? All those food courts! All those cafes!!! It's food. All the time food! Everywhere food!

See, when I get on the bus - no food. When I get on the train - no food. When I get on the subway - no food. When I get into work - no food.

When I walk? Food,  food. food ... and bad food. Croissants, danishes, cupcakes, donuts, and bagels with heaping helpings of cream cheese. And that's just breakfast! Then there's the lunch food. Burgers. Pad thai. Burritos. Subs. Pizza. Veal sandwiches. Panini. Pasta. Shwarma. Falafel. Souvlaki. French fries. OH MY GAWD.

I admit, I lack poor self-control. But I'm wearing a designer pea-coat that would have never fit me last year and I love it and I can't go back to the hippo-wear. I won't do it.

So you know how I deal? I leave all my cards at home except for a credit card locked in my office and carry $5 on me because $5 buys very little and if I break, I won't do a lot of damage. At most, it's something I can burn with the 30-minute round-trip walk.

This has got to get easier. This is what I keep telling myself. I'm 4 pounds away from a 30-pound weight loss.

I can do this! Right?

How do you deal with temptation. Is it just me? Do you give in to all the food?

Friday, November 16, 2012

For the train ride in...

I don`t know what year it was, probably 1998 or so, when I managed a team of internet developers for a dot-com start-up.
We were in San Diego at the time, on an 8-month contract, when I rolled into work one morning to the sounds of hysterical laughter and snickering.
One of the guys had been sent a link to a site where some guy scans the office artwork of his co-workers' children and critiques it for the world to read.
Yes, it sounds cruel, but it was pretty funny.
I laughed right along with them and decided to send the link to my mother.
She called about an hour later telling me that whoever decided to put "that into the Internet" was mean and I was mean for laughing at it.
"You were never bad at art, but laughing at what a five year old draws ... ?" she said. "Not every kid is an artist."
This only made me laugh harder because she'd missed the point completely.
Yesterday, I discovered that the guy behind this hot mess is now a published author. His book chronicles his critiques.
> I Am Better Than Your Kids

GO Transit has slowed down their parking enforcement initiative. The parking donkeys rejoice! And get their bumpers kicked in return it seems

- Clarkson GO Station, submitted

Thursday, November 15, 2012

For the train ride home ...

I always enjoy a good blog post that makes me laugh to the point of crying, so enjoy!

The Hater’s Guide To The Williams-Sonoma Catalog

Some key quotes:
Oh, thank God! Thanksgiving was mere weeks away and I was like OH FUCK, WE'RE OUT OF TWINE. AND WE HAVE NO PLACE TO DISPENSE SAID TWINE.
I also like that these gloves come with the word POTATO labeled across each one. Late at night, I often go digging through my basement screaming, "WHERE ARE THE GODDAMN POTATO GLOVES?" Because I usually end up grabbing the carrot gloves first, you know?
What kills me is that there are clearly people out there who have shitloads of money and NO cooking skills who order this shit. Who are these people? How are there so many of them that Williams-Sonoma can sustain its business model? Are we all just racking up massive biscuit debts that will soon break the economy? I imagine that 60 percent of Williams-Sonoma's business come from a group of six Persian oil barons, who buy everything in every catalog five times over every year for no good reason at all. Seventy-two-dollar biscuits.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Ontario Launches GO Train 15-Minute Service Guarantee

McGuinty Government Improving Public Transit

Ministry of Transportation
Starting tomorrow, GO Train riders will be able to get a credit if their train arrival is delayed 15 minutes or more.
The new 15-minute service guarantee is another step in Ontario's efforts to continually improve GO customer service. Under the guarantee, riders will get a credit based on the fare they paid. PRESTO users will be able to claim credits for late trips online, at a ticket kiosk or from GO customer service representatives. Single-ride ticket holders, day pass holders and group pass holders will need to claim credit vouchers from GO customer service representatives.
Investing in public transit is part of the McGuinty government's plan to strengthen the economy.  A strong economy protects the services that mean most to Ontario families -- health care and education. 

Quick Facts

  • GO trains arrived on schedule 94 per cent of the time this year, up from 87 per cent in 2008.
  • Approximately 70 per cent of current delays over 15 minutes would qualify for the credit. Delays beyond GO’s control will not be covered by the credit, including extreme weather conditions as defined by Environment Canada, emergency investigations, track obstructions, pedestrian incidents and on-board medical emergencies.
  • Single-ride ticket holders, day pass holders and group pass holders must claim their credit within 24 hours of their train being delayed to be eligible, while PRESTO users must claim their credit within seven days.
  • Metrolinx has expanded its GO rail service by 90 kilometres and added 10 new GO stations and 25,000 parking spots since 2003.
  • Since 2003, Metrolinx has purchased 285 new bi-level rail cars, 57 new, more powerful, fuel-efficient locomotives, 22 double-deck buses, and 124 additional accessible buses to reach more commuters in the Greater Golden Horseshoe.
  • GO buses and trains carry approximately 62 million passengers per year — about 75 per cent by train and 25 per cent by bus.


 When commuters take the GO Train, they want peace of mind that their train is going to get to where they need to be, on time. GO Transit’s new 15-minute service guarantee demonstrates how committed we are to getting riders to their destinations on time. Improving public transit encourages more people to leave their cars at home, reducing traffic congestion and keeping our air clean."
Minister of Transportation
The service guarantee is another example of Metrolinx’ ongoing commitment to customer service. We recognize that reliable service is a key element to ensuring our customers are satisfied customers."
Bruce McCuaig
President and CEO, Metrolinx

Scumbaggery on the LSE. Severed signal cables deemed act of vandalism

These are the scumbags that move through society with us - people who risk the lives of thousands by committing an act that is dangerous and disruptive.
Kudos to GO Transit, Metrolinx and Toronto Police for their diligence overnight to correct the issues caused by this despicable act.

For more, see "GO Transit back on track after fixing cable snipped by vandals" (Global News)

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Guess who's back? Back again? Douche is back. Buy him a bed.

Mr Sleep Country here has graced us all with his presence before on this blog.

I *never* have this kind of luck! Presto Card found

My hubby decided to scour the roadside today where the bus drops me off in the evenings and lo and behold, he found my Presto card covered in leaves and debris near a sewer grate.
Call me Miss Cleo!!! Didn't I call it?!!
But seriously, who has this kind of luck?
And my parents said there were no benefits to living out in the country. IN YOUR FACE, I say!!!
So I bought $10 in quick picks for Wednesday's $46 million 6/49 draw.

Ugh. It seems I lost my Presto Card and access to the funds I loaded yesterday

Last night it was pissing down something fierce before I exited the bus so I gather in between wrestling with the hood of my jacket and other fumbling, I must have dropped my Presto card.
I can picture it now, lying in the grass. Maybe it's lying in the gutter. Maybe it's been carried down to the sewer. Maybe it's in a big sewer pipe floating towards Lake Ontario.
Le sigh.
All I know is that when the bus pulled up to the curb this morning and I reached into the pocket of my purse where I keep my card, it wasn't there.
Mr. Very Understanding Bus Driver Who Was New let me ride to the station. While on the bus, I tore my purse apart. No dice.
At the station, the GO attendant put my lost card on a hotlist and gave me a temporary card that I loaded with $60.00.
Oh, here's the kicker, boys and girls. Yesterday morning, at 9:15, I loaded $150 on the card using Presto's website and subsequent taps for the ride home hadn't transferred the balance to the card.
There's $150 of my money floating around in banking cyberspace that I won't see again until:
  • Someone finds my lost card and taps it (the balance will transfer but the card then locks)
  • I find my card and tap it, but I wouldn't be able to use it because I would have to unlock it by calling Presto
  • 30 days from yesterday has passed. I won't see that money again until Dec 12.
I don't know who designed this system but that's pretty shitty.
Thankfully, it's not going to hurt me financially as I can manage to pay for my transit between now and then, but I immediately think about people who live paycheque to paycheque.
I'm hoping someone does me a favour and finds my card and taps it, thinking they'll get a free ride. The only way Presto can transfer the $150.00 I loaded yesterday over to my replacement card is the money has to be transferred to the chip on that card.
If the balance doesn't transfer by December 12, the money will be returned to my bank account. Until the money is transferred, I don't have access to it.
The current balance of my lost card is $23.33. Tomorrow, I can call Presto and have that balance transferred over to my replacement card.
I've been told not to register the replacement card. We all know that having lost this card now jeopardizes my eligibility for the transit tax credit for the month of November.
Once I am sure my old card is indeed gone forever, I will register the new card and like the good, mistrustful person I am, I've been downloading my transit usage reports monthly. I have a record of all of my trips for September to October.
Presto doesn't transfer over your transit usage to replacement cards. I stand corrected. 
The only thing I am grateful for is that I no longer deal with passes. Had I lost my monthly pass for November, there would be no $286.00 finding its way back to my bank account on December 12.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

(Insert soft strings of opening theme music for The Friendly Giant) Gather round kids, it's time for another tale of the Oakville Smokers Club

MM writes:

Last week I worked late and didn't get out till around eight. Luck was with me and I didn't wait more than five minutes for the bus.
We pulled up to the platform at Smokeville GO station and as I got off I noticed that there was a guy in the process of lighting up right in front of the doors (pictured above). He at least had the presence of mind to desist while he came up to the open doorway to ask the driver a question. Then he turned and started lighting up again.
I told him that the area was no smoking, and to please move away. He seemed to have a hearing problem because he asked me to repeat three times. In any case, he shrugged and walked off, smoking.
I figured that this was one of those rare easy cases and settled back under the awning to wait for my bus. It was raining and the rancid butts littering the station were giving off their particular charming perfume of eau de wet ashtray.
Then the guy came back around the side of the station building - having made the full smoking tour - and settled in ostentatiously beside me.
So I pulled out the canon and snapped his pic.
Meltdown ensued. No stages of mounting anger - straight to screaming rage. Veins popping in his neck, eyes bulbous, spittle flying. He apparently had thought ahead (as far as was possible) to this confrontation and had been stewing since I'd asked him to move away.
Offered to break my face, break my camera etc etc. Kept shouting "DELETE MY PICTURE! DELETE MY PICTURE! DELETE MY PICTURE!". Then every once in a while he would cup his cell phone to his ear (consulting with his brain trust, I figure) and come back with an attempt at an argument. Like:
"Its ill-egal to take my pitch-er widdout my say-so!"
When I tried to point out that the sign doesn't say "no pictures" but clearly communicates "no smoking" he'd cut me off with another round of "DELETE MY PICTURE! DELETE MY PICTURE! DELETE MY PICTURE!"
I told him to get away from me with his stink-stick, and that I had a perfect right to take his picture and put it anywhere, even online, as long as I didn't make money off it.
This seemed to give him pause. He then tossed his butt and told me that since he was no longer smoking I should delete his picture. Bargaining with me to delete a legal picture, since he'd finished his illegal butt...
He wouldn't leave me alone, but after the first rage I figured he wouldn't get too violent, or at least not more violent than I could handle (see pic for reference). But it was getting annoying. I went into the station, guy screaming right behind and beside me, (like a little yipping smelly dog) and asked the ticket taker to call 911.
In the best tradition of customer relations that I've come to expect, the GO Customer SERVICE Representative pointed me to the bank of pay phones and told me to call for myself. I did.
Johnny Smoke continued to scream at me, so much so that the 911 operator couldn't make me out at times. She told me not to engage with the guy (kinda hard since he was within a quarter metre of the receiver screaming), and she took my details and told me the cops would be there.
Buddy went out to wait for the cops out front, I stayed inside.
Two cars pulled up. Nicotine Boy got to talk to one officer, I talked to the other. From the sounds of his interview the actual law on photographing in a public place came as a shock and crushing disappointment to him. The cops had a talk with him and asked him to be a good boy and got him all calmed down. They asked me what I wanted to do and I replied that I only wanted to wait for my bus in peace and (relatively) clean air. In retrospect I should have also asked to press charges... I had proof after all... but considering that the officer seemed a bit fuzzy on the bylaw (he thought Halton's 9 metre policy applied, and I had to tell him about the GO Provincial bylaw, he also asked why I hadn't (snerk!) called the (chortle!) GO Safety Weebles. (LOL). They told Mookie to leave me alone. He seemed to get it.
In any case, here is the shot of buddy, see if you can blur his features enough.
Also, as a bonus, a pic from Friday. This one could be better. I was in a hurry to get to the bus, but two or three smokers were clustered between the two signs in the alcove by the doors (photo below), it made such a great shot- it would have made a much better shot if I had gotten the other sign into the frame, but it is what it is...
One thing the cops said has stuck with me. They said that this crazy guy was a cream puff, but there were other crazier guys out there...They asked if there was some other way I could approach this. I told them the "Oakville Smoking Club Massacree in Four Part Harmony" (abridged) and that all I wanted was smoke free air so that I don't get allergic reactions with complications and wind up in the hospital again... and with the lack of enforcement I was left to my own devices... But that if I DID wind up in the hospital, I wanted to at least know that I fought in the most effective way what was bringing me down...
But I am re-evaluating my tactics, and maybe I'll come up with something less risky. I'll let you know ASAP.

This honey badger don't care

You know, I have to say, there's something to be said about people who truly don't give a shit about anything. Things like manners, decorum and etiquette are just complicated words found in the dictionary as far as they care.
Like this honey badger. She truly doesn't give a shit.

According to the email that delivered this beauty of a photo:

I left the house this morning and it was 1 degree according to the weatherman on the radio.
Heavy coat and shoes/boots were necessary (I am already wearing fingerless gloves as I type this email). Cars with scraped windshield weather, cold right?
I was onboard the 5:55am from Bramalea this morning when this women and all of her 'baggage' got on. She spread out everything amongst the 3 seats in her quad. But more astonishing was the fact she removed her boots and then proceeded to remove her SOCKS and put her feet on the seat!

ALL YOUR SPACE is alive and well throughout GO Transit.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Frosted tips. Bro GO has 'em

Tonight, as the 4:10 pm LSE chugged its way east, this guy got on at Rouge Hill looking like he set the trend for every guido who ever lived in the GTA circa 1995-2001.
I sat there, just staring.
He had it all. Frosted tips. The faux work boots with steel toes. The baggy, yet tight in the ass, black Diesel jeans. The Michelin/waffle poofy jacket. The black, ribbed, tank top. The taut waist line. Oompa Loompa tan. Eyeliner and waxed lips.
I was going to photograph the shit out of this hot mess but my BlackBerry's battery was dead.
It was simply breath-taking.
And because I know you jokers need a visual, nothing describes it better than the video below.
Fast-forward to the 00:35 mark for the complete picture.


Tuesday, November 6, 2012


Monday night I'm on the bus. Just minding my own bus business when at the Oshawa Centre bus stop, two teens climbed aboard. They sat right in front of me. The boy popped his seat back and the girl kept her's upright.
Then, with no warning, they started drilling each other's throats with their tongues.
This was happening practically on my lap.
I had never been so taken aback by such a brazen level of PDA. Sure, I can handle the close-ups on television but when it's front of you, all of a sudden you feel like an awkward college roommate huddled in your bed, hands clamped over your ears, drowning out the sounds of what's happening in the bed across from you.
I don't know what disturbed me more, the fact that the bus was crowded and no f#cks were given, or that I could hear and observe the heavy nostril breathing as they sucked the fillings out of each other's molars.
At one point, as he bit and pulled her lip, she reached down and began to massage in between his legs.
I was stunned. No, really, stunned! I was 17 once but that stuff was contained. In a car. Secluded. Private.
Not on a bus.
Then, at one point, his phone chimed and while he was on her face again, he proceeded to type a message back. It was something about hamburgers and how many he wanted - in case you were wondering.
I decided to get up and move seats.


My husband just dared me to drunk-blog. Challenge accepted. Rough day. Rough couple of weeks actually. Hell, it's been a rough time since the summer.
Shit's been awful, really. We're talking need a pill to sleep awful, but I digress.
What the hell does that mean, "I digress". Hang on, shit, spell-check is enabled. No wonder I sound so scholarly and shit. It's like those Fords that park themselves. How is anyone supposed to think about not hitting a curb if the friggen car is like Luke Skywalker and is like, "Hell yea. I'm all over this curb like a light saber". We've got software that baby sits our damn spelling. Doesn't matter. I spell like a star anyway.
Do you know how hard it is to work under pressure? Do you?!
Imagine being a spellchecker living in a PC. The stress would kill you. There wouldn't be enough Lipitor in the world to calm that verbal nightmare.
I once had a client who spent an entire week prepping me for "lunch day". By the time Friday rolled around, I'd never been so fucking excited about food before in my entire life. When I showed up for this "lunch day", I was greeted with a box of stale timbits and bottled water. "The hell?" I said. "Where's lunch?"
Bitch was talking the whole time about LAUNCH day. You know how many people were cc'd on that email? Hundreds. Not one person had the balls to tell this VP and CEO that it was LAUNCH.
I did.
So we're best friends. True story.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Broke ass Brokeback

If your ass is too broke to pay for a VIA rail ticket where you can lounge out in first class, then you're not entitled to lounge on a GO train.
You put your ass on the seat and keep your feet firmly planted on the floor just like Good Guy Greg would do.

 - Thanks to DH

Friday, November 2, 2012

Holy Fred on a Banana! Have none of you ever seen free food before?

So the folks at Liberté decided to give away flats of yogourt this morning inside the GO Concourse at Union Station.
I was so  appalled by the Black Friday mob mentality, I began loudly calling several donkeys out for their behaviour.
Where the hell are some of your manners?! You people are adults. It's yogourt. It's not lactose-covered gold. One girl shelling out the yogourt actually looked terrified, and with good reason.
Pushing, shoving, charging, running and jumping - hundreds of people. All for free food. And what ever happened to "Please" and "Thank you"?
I bet some of you are the first to chastize your own children for rotten behaviour but forgot to look in the mirror this morning.

Anyhow, I scored a flat of 4. I owe my BFF for this as she's 8 foot 11 (Or something like that. Bitch is tall.) and could tower over the donkeys and grab me one from the top of the racks.

Some of you owe those Liberté people an apology.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Why didn't you publish my email?

I make a point of trying to respond to emails I get in a timely fashion but generally, I tend to ignore a good majority of them. I'll point out why in a bit.

There are the regular contacts who I converse with frequently and then there are the one-offs where half the time, I don't know how to respond, or have no desire to engage, or simply don't find the story/complaint/review of my website/concern/racist remarks funny or worth repeating.

The majority of my email comes from people who think I work for GO Transit and expect me to provide a soapbox for them. GO has a place for you folks to go. You can take your beefs/rants/concerns and put them on Facebook and Twitter, or write an email to GO or call Customer Service.

Honestly, I don't owe you anything. There, I said it. Apparently I'm an asshole and a huge bitch and this shouldn't be a problem for me to tell you this, but truth be told, I have a hard time telling people that there's nothing I can do about their lost iPods, or their cracked Presto cards, or the confusing bus schedules, or the lack of garbage cans, or the crowded parking lots, or the people who crowd the doors.

Yes, I point out the bad behaviour. Yes, a lot of people read this website, but it was never meant as a means to encourage a dialogue between GO Transit and its customers.

I'm not paid for providing the weekly entertainment I try to produce because that's what this website is folks,  it's entertainment. I take my beefs seriously and use the very means I just told you about to address them with GO.

I put this website to together to call out fellow commuters for the crap they pull. Sure, I feel GO Transit can do more with respect to customer service, improving customer relations and improving communication, but if you think I'm going to spend my time cutting and pasting every single email I get onto this website, because you think it will make a difference, I'd hate to break it to you, but I can't. I don't have the time and I don't feel I'm obligated to.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I haven't seen an iota of difference in GO's service that could be traced back to this website (parking tickets aside, which I know I had nothing to do with despite an email accusing me of instigating this enforcement operative).

GO knows I exist. How can they not? I tweet to them. I link their news releases. People tell GO about me. GO employees write me to thank me for calling out the foot riders and addressing bad customer behaviour. Strangers write me to tell me they're happy I'm here to provide a means to connect riders with other riders and provide a medium to address shit that really bothers people.

That's all I do. I address shit. I address shit that you do, that your seat mate does, that crowds of people do, that drunk asshats do, that parking donkeys do, that GO employees do... I just point it all out so we can chat about it and have a good laugh or a bitch fest.

I've been told I should not call out shit such as people calling relatives overseas at 6:30 in the morning during a morning bus ride, when all people want is some peace and quiet, because it's fucking dark and your body is pissed off it's not in bed... It is ANNOYING but we laugh because we've all been subjected to it and we laugh because it's amusing that we get so pissed off by something so "First World" of a problem.

Some of you are out of your damn minds. Coming onto my turf, using my soapbox to educate me about decorum and empathy. When I did stand-up, I would marvel at the people who would pay the cover charge, buy a pint of beer and then complain after the show about how offended they were. The hell?

Comedy is exactly that - calling out shit. Poking fun at shit people do. Most of the time, I'm pretty serious as I truly do have an ax to grind with people who foot ride, and bag ride, and door block and stair hog, and talk way too loud for a personal phone call, but most of the time, I find commuting hysterical, especially the things people complain about.

My bus rides provide hours of entertainment. It amazes me the amount of First World Problems people have.

I grew up in a home where money was tight but laughter was plenty. I grew up with a mentally challenged sister who taught me to take nothing in life for granted, that every day is a goddamn gift because I can drive a car, earn a salary, read a book from start to finish, fall in love, be a mom and take wonderful vacations; all things she can't do. My dad came from a poor, Acadian family where he slept five in a bed and didn't know the feeling of wearing a new pair of shoes until the day he got married. He worked hard to show his girls the value of a dollar, the pride of owning something and the empowerment that comes with a sense of achievement and overcoming adversity. My mom came to Canada with her mother with nothing more but a trunk full of clothes. My grandmother worked three jobs, dealt with domestic abuse and was fiercely loyal to her community. She cooked and sewed for friends and neighbours simply because she loved them and expected nothing in return. She bought the house my parents now live in working 18 hour days, seven days a week for 13 years straight. She did it on her own; in the 1960s - a feat unheard of for a woman. She died at 48 of brain cancer. She was robbed.

So I know a thing or two about bad shit. I realize that what I call out isn't bad shit. I know there are worse things in the world than spending an hour sitting next to people who haven't turned off the key tones on their phones, so every letter of their text messages is a sledge hammer hit to your ear drums that slowly picks away at your patience, but don't sit there from behind your keyboard and tell me I have no right to have this website "out on the internet" or take the positions I do on social etiquette.

Damn right I do.

Check out this hot betch

GO Transit built a clubhouse for the Oakville Smokers Club!

You LSW'ers might know it by its other name, "parking garage" but you have to say it like the folks at Metrolinx say it, with both hands in the air, each bending two fingers, making air quotes. "Parking garage".

As you can see, the event drew a huge crowd.

Here's some random politicians at its grand opening (courtesy of GO Transit's Facebook page).