Powell to Emeryville, approx. 11:13am - Grown Ass Man

Grown Ass Man: A tipster e-mailed us with the following: "spoken word dude talking to other dude. 'She's got a BA. I'm 14 units away. But my degree is better than hers. She's got a BA in psychology. Child psychology. But I'm a grown ass man.'"

Hollis-Amtrack to BART, approx. 5:48pm - Cuts Like a Knife

Cuts Like a Knife: There is a knife sitting on one of the seats in the back. It's a butter knife. Two people felt the need to warn the driver about the butter knife. One person went to grat lengths to describe the butter knife to whomever is on the other end of the phone conversation. This is not how we imagined the Al Qaeda Summer Spectacular.

O Editor! My Editor!: Dude is reading manuscripts, writing editing notes, and will eventually be editing so he can now "bill [himself] as an editor." Also, someone pulled a knife out of a shoe and threatened him for being gay. Now, that's a knife Summer Spectacular.

Powell to Emeryville, approx. 10:30 am - O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! My Captain!: Currently, there is a driver on the Powell line who wears a shirt and tie with a captain's hat. He also gets on the PA system to announce stops and transfers. How awesome is that? Hurray to the Captain for being a consummate professional. Emery Go Round employee of the century!

Parti in the back: Total Posh, a.k.a. Victoria Beckham, clone with the same severe bob, same monochromatic wardrobe. From the back, though, you can clearly see her bad dye job. Her head is what animal breeders refer to as "parti color," (e.g., parti color Cocker Spaniel) with ash blonde, red, and blond patches. To paraphrase the Spice Girls song, "Make it last forever, bad dye jobs never end." (And that's from "Wannabe", by the way, Miss Wannabe Posh.) Plus, she has a job at the mall; probably from her all-black outfit, we'd venture to guess at Sephora. That's a little more posh than Fuddruckers, say, but still, she's no Victoria Beckham stomping around in her $900 shoes.

It's a Federal Law, assholes: If the vehicle is stopped but the rider is so old and shaky that he must hold the railing to walk to the back of the bus, then you assholes need to give up your seat up front. There are plenty of seats in the back. Get the fuck up and move. Let the old man sit by the door. What the fuck is wrong with you people? There are many lame federal laws, but yielding seats by the entrance to the elderly and the disabled is one everyone should follow. That old man should have smacked every single one of you pathetic assholes upside the head with his cane.

Hollis-Amtrak to Emeryville, approx. 10:10am - Shiloh Pitt

Shiloh Pitt: Spoonerisms aside, someone left a huuuge pile o' shit in front of the fare gates at MacArthur BART exit. Either the shitter or a poor unsuspecting commuter stepped in it and created a poo trail going up to the station. We wonder if someone had a Sunday night drinking binge and just couldn't make it to the BART bathroom or missed last BART all together, or if the shitter brazenly dropped trou during commute hours. Either way, shouldn't BART have cleaned up the pile o' shit immediately? Not only can one smell it from inside the station (sorry, fat old man in front of us in the escalator, we thought you sharted and glared at you...), the shit trail leading to the station means people are dragging shit on their shoes. Clean that shit up, literally. Sooooo not tres jolie. Not an Emery Go Round-related post, but newsworthy.

Hollis-Amtrak to Emeryville, approx. 10:36am - I Love the Smell of Hot Dog in the Morning

I Love the Smell of Hot Dog in the Morning: An apple-shaped woman gets on the shuttle with a hot dog. As soon as she sits down, a Hollis-Amtrak regular rider (old man always clad in jeans and denim jacket) gets up and mumbles something and moves to the rear of the bus. A friendly young woman tries to console the Hot Dog Lady by saying "It smells good!" Apparently, the old man was offended by the smell of encased meat and moved away. Hot Dog Lady proceeds to huff that hot dog at a rapid pace like she's been starving on a desert island. And the island she was on is definitely not Coney Island. If she were on Coney Island on July 4, she would have huffed 69 hot dogs and beat that Joey Chestunut. 69 because she's probably hard up for some dick as well as hot dogs.

Powell to Emeryville, approx. 9:40am - Good Morning Geology

Good Morning Geology: There is a new Emery Go Round driver who's on the Powell route who says "good morning" to everyone who comes on board. It's nice. He also puts three geodes on the floor between the driver's seat and the entrance to the shuttle. It is yet undetermined whether the geodes are there for ornamental or New Age spiritual purposes. Could his pleasant demeanor be the result of geode power?

Hey There Tranny Girl: Biological girls who dress and do their make-up like trannies are the worst. Camille Paglia would probably have something to say about this.

Hollis-Amtrak to Emeryville, approx. 9:30am - Claustrophobia

Claustrophobia: If you are what can be described, let's say, as "big boned," and there are many empty seats on the shuttle, why do you have to sit next to someone? And by "next to" we mean, halfway on top of us due to your big-bonedness. It's a hot day, and it is not enjoyable at all to have your pudgy, clammy cookie-dough flesh pour around us as it tries to find space. Shivers!!