I totally hate the MRT. I really do. Okay, I appreciate the fact that it’s the quickest and cheapest way to go through EDSA. And if not for the MRT I’d probably be stuck in traffic every morning, cursing the high heavens for it. And probably commit homicide or something.

Fig 1: Mr. T. This is NOT the MRT

But sometimes, the MRT is just hellish.

Fig 2: The Seventh Circle of Hell

Anyway, once I got to the MRT today, it was absofuckingloutely jampacked (well, as always) that I had to squeeze in between a fat hairy guy and a pregnant woman. In between plucking the guy’s arm hair and playfully jabbing the pregnant woman’s stomach, I tried to stand in a way that actually feels remotely comfortable. By “remotely comfortable” I mean “the bodily contortion which is least painful and would not result in broken bones and an erection”. More »

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