You haven't anything till you've tried the School Ending bus from outside Headington Girl's School. Not only are those girls FERAL they're damn near lacquered as well. Last time I was heading back from Brookes in their vicinity, the tallest, leggiest of them, sprawled like a porn start over the full length of the back seat, sneered at me thus: "Why are you dressed like that?" I mean for fuck's sake, I'm 25 and and school kids are *still* trying to bully me. Fear rating through the roof.

Dude, I think we have found your hatred niche - that was a true joy to read. :)

You have inspired me. Here's my take on my trip to work today:

Fear - 5 out of 5. The other passengers were by and large perfectly normal people on their way to work, and so the bus driver clearly decided to make up for that. He made an excellent first impression by arriving at the stop at high speed and grinding to an abrupt halt, and maintained that quality of driving throughout the entire ride from Greyfriars to Carfax. Accelerating and decelerating at a rapid, jolting pace, the driver also skilfully steered the bus so that it swerved and weaved from side to side like a punch-drunk boxer. When he started tooting his horn at a truck in front of him which had the temerity to hesitate for 1 millisecond at the Plain I realised he was one bad day away from a road-rage incident.

Disgust - 1 out of 3. The one drawback of the excellent job the driver did was that it focused my attention on things outside of the bus which we might smash into at high speed as opposed to things inside the bus. The single point comes from the man with the big bushy beard who stayed close to the exit. Just who was he leering at - me, or the old woman sitting nearby?

Service - 2 out of 2. This driver has cultivated an exquisite hatred of passengers and isn't afraid to let you know. A mere glance at him is enough to tell you his story. Having given the best part of his life to the buses of Oxford he was let go under unfortunate circumstances and left to stew in his own resentment for about a year before cutbacks forced the bus company to beg ex-employees to come back to fill in for a staff shortage. It galls him to swallow his pride and serve once more the public whose complaints cost him his job the first time, and to work for the company which upheld those complaints, but he needs the money. He doesn't feel that he owes anyone anything, though. He did not speak as we embarked or disembarked, and acknowledged our presence only once, when he snarled at us to move back down the crowded bus, away from his inner sanctum, his throne of driving majesty, his chamber of solitude, his lofty driving cabin of the gods.

Overall, 8 out of 10, the bulk of which came from the driver himself. The Oxford Bus Company is hiring the brightest and the best these days, clearly.

Julian has many hatred niches, surely. He is a man of many hatreds. But, yes, this is wonderfully inspiring.

Perhaps I should review my ... walk. Which I owe entirely to the bus companies of Oxford. Without them, I'm sure I'd be using public transport.

While we're on the subject, does anybody have any idea why the Oxford Bus Company have decided that the best time and place to switch drivers on a particular route as the shifts end is... on the High Street, smack in the middle of the buses' routes? It delays the buses right at one of the busiest set of stops in Oxford, causing needless hassle for the customers, other road users, and (of course) the other buses trying to use the stops. Surely the sane way would be to change the driver at the route's terminus, thus delaying precisely nobody?

I can see no good reason for them to be doing this unless it is, as I suspect, a money-saving scheme to avoid having to cart bus drivers to the terminus. Considering that they also seem to be cutting back on the decent drivers (I swear that the bus drivers never used to be this rude on the OBC), I have to wonder whether they'll last another 5 years, let alone another 125...