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Kill, murder, maim...
There's something not quite right with the Northern Line tonight. Not quite severe delays, or even minor delays, but certainly severe arsing around.
At Euston the indicator board excelled itself by being exactly wrong for every train that came in, and when I finally managed to find a train to High Barnet that wasn't a mobile version of the Black Hole of Calcutta, it made up for it by sitting motionless between stations for extended and unexplained periods.
Then they turfed us off at Finchley Central in the pouring rain to await another mobile sardine canister.
Still, I'm home now, and calmed down. If it wasn't for the fact that I wish to debut it, you'd have to wait until I get properly riled to use my new icon. As it is, that's how I felt a half hour ago...
At Euston the indicator board excelled itself by being exactly wrong for every train that came in, and when I finally managed to find a train to High Barnet that wasn't a mobile version of the Black Hole of Calcutta, it made up for it by sitting motionless between stations for extended and unexplained periods.
Then they turfed us off at Finchley Central in the pouring rain to await another mobile sardine canister.
Still, I'm home now, and calmed down. If it wasn't for the fact that I wish to debut it, you'd have to wait until I get properly riled to use my new icon. As it is, that's how I felt a half hour ago...