Coach's Corner

I have a 'dot com' of my own, and I'm sexually active. Things are falling into place.
Coming at you live from a bus somewhere.
Oh, I know that you probably figure the bus has gone the way of the horse-drawn, but when one can't afford a lease on the new Mazda 3, this is how man must traverse.
I sat in the back of the bus because I still want to be the cool kid, and on a coach line, no one can make me sit elsewhere.
Don't do that. Don't sit in the back.
I sat far too near a drunkard, who yelled a lot of profanity during our lunch stop because he didn't realize it was a lunch stop.
"How long do it take the driver to have his Jesus cigarette!? Let's fuckin' go!"
Later, he offered me straight vodka from a pineapple crush bottle.
He kept waking me up to shake hands with me, and he wasn't taking no for an answer.
"We're in this. You and me. We're fuckin' in it."
If he meant anything besides the bus, he was wrong.
We're not in it.
Another woman, who looks like she's kicking a drug, had been crying for the first half of the sojourn.
Now that we're into the second half, she's releasing absolutely ungodly farts back here.
It seems impolite to move now when I was willing to put up with buddy earlier.
He told me to charge his iPod because I "knew about that stuff," referring to me as a "pointdexter," which he pronounced incorrectly.
I think it's the glasses.
I'm heading to my homeland, and ultimately, the stage.
That crackly ol' mic. Can't get enough of it.
I've been watching some film about a preacher whose kid didn't die enough because they play bullshit movies during the bus trip.
I have a former blog post about being forced to watch a movie about a snowboarding chimpanzee through the same bus service, but I can't track it down right now. 
Anyway, there's not much of a point to this.
I'm just trying to get back into a daily blog routine, and some days aren't that interesting.
Primarily, I wanted to tell you about the drunk guy.