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This evening has been a journey, my friends. Today was my nan’s birthday. Her meal out was in the centre of Brighton at 18.30. I was in Winchester. My bed was in Winchester. My night needed to end in Winchester. My evening needed to be with my nan. The trains were even more tunnel-fucked than usual. Let the games begin. At 16.00, the trains fired the first shot with an impressive half an hour delay. The South-Coast route was a no-go. So, instead, I reinforced that I had balls and pursued the alternative route through LONDON. Oh, twas not pretty. I swung into battle, galloping upon the 16.25 to the place that commuters come to give up and die: Clapham. Fucking. Junction. I rode into the central platform of the beast. Platform 6. I then trekked up the unnecessarily long slope to the crossing bridge, to then hastily journey to Platform 14 and, in spite all odds, my legs were still attached to my body. From there, I took a brief ride to East Croydon, before the trains swung at my balls of steel, once again, delaying my train by a further ten minutes, which completely demolished my connection from Haywards Heath. Yet, when the train finally arrived, I put all grudges aside and mounted the disgraced train. In fact, I rode all the way to Preston Park, before I waited for my final leap to Brighton. Rest assured, that train had also been delayed by five minutes. However, this was to my benefit, as that very delay allowed me to get there in-time via my other delayed train. Once I had finally reached Brighton at 18.59, I sprinted and I sprinted and finally, at 19.03, I reached my nan’s family meal with only half an hour lost. And then I feasted and I nattered and I wished my nan a very happy birthday. That was until I had to return to the station and journey back home. The South-Coast route was now more fucked than a prostitute in a yellow visibility jacket. The battle was not done. I had to fight once more with Junctioning Beast of Clapham. I am still headed to it its belly, as I right now. However, I will probably post this the next time I reach an Internet connection. For now, goodnight my friends. The commuter is mighty. Pay the conductors properly so that under-staffing never does this to me again.

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