The Color Of Hunger

Hop on the Sprague bus (#90) on a wet and rainy day in the middle of busy hour….the smell’s are crazydisgusting, and I’ll guarantee yu’ll never eat lunch right before boarding again….here’s my story for the day….enjoy….
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You must be joking if you think I’m scootin’ my ass over for yers. Seriously??? The sight of you is bad enough, but come on dude, you R-E-E-K. And believe me, I’m tryin’ to spare feelings here. Jesus. If I were to throw some week-old mayonaisse in the microwave with no regards to a bowl or timer, I’d still have a better smelling creation than the one yer giving off right now.
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And how dare you shoot me that “god-yer-a-bitch” look. Pshh, who knows, I may just agree with you. But that’s neither here nor there. Cuz yu see, I’m what you’d call a classy bitch. A classy bitch who has a nifty little power called ‘choice’. The power to choose, my friend. So sorry to rain on yer funky little stink parade, but sitting next to a human dumpster on a 45 minute bus ride isn’t really my idea of a ‘healthy choice’.
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Good luck finding a seat tho; yu’ll definetly need it. Who knows, you may even get lucky 4 rows down with that nasty red-head. The one who constantly smells like dirty cat box and faded dryer sheets. Just please, whatever you do, use protection. Imagining any offspring sends cold pricks of shivers down my spine. God forbid.