"Your Screaming Child is in Very Real Danger of Being Murdered at My Hands" an Open Letter to Train Commuting Baby Owners'

I own two vehicles, neither of which would I trust to take me great distances, even if either of them were legally allowed on California road ways. So when I make solo treks across the length, bredth, or even occasionally, depth of the globe (fuck you z axis, I said it) I am generally relegated to two forms of transportation: Amtrak and Greyhound.

I know what you’re likely saying: “That’s lunacy, presented with those self same options, I’d sooner shoot myself in the face with a super soaker filled with cancer AIDS.” And you would be absolutely right to say so.

I’m too poor financially and itinerarily to fly. I don’t plan my trips far enough in advance, so the bus and the train are really my only options, and it is kind of like choosing between being castrated with a sharpened marble or taping your own grandparents’ 4 hour scat play porn anthology… No, no it’s exactly like that.

I learned a few thins about myself on this most recent trip.

1. I can infact scowl at a baby and fucking mean it.

2. If given the opportunity I would murder an entire inconsiderate family, with each successive previously slaughtered family member, pulverizing them into one another until nothing but a mushy pile of indeciferable meat parts remained.

And 3. I want to face punch a baby screaming in excitement JUST as much as I want to face punch a baby screaming in anger.

Now before you call me a monster, again, know that I had selected my seat well before this family arrived. If I had been ranting about this after searching out a baby laden family to sit directly behind, I would certainly deserve all of your avaliable scorn and then some. But they chose to sit directly in front of me and over power my shitty ear buds, causing me to wish that somehow, just their section of the train, mere inches in front of me, be riddled with Tommygun fire somehow transported through time and space directly into their stupid faces…

But they are gone now. I will never see them again and they forgot about me the second I exited their sight line. And I too will forget them, but it’ll take longer. Because even now, as they are continuing on to their final destination and I steadily rumble toward mine, I wish all of the ills of the world befall them, and that somehow each and every one of them is forced to watch every single gruesome act being committed to each other as they scream for a god that is not there to end their aggony and spare them the horror…

I mean it.

I absolutely do.

So hard…

See you at the show tonight folks!

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