I swear to God, if I hear one more person blabber on about Carrie Bradshaw and her damn Sex In The City movie, I am going to take a pair of Jimmy Choo’s and shove them straight up their SJP lovin’ ass.

There, now that is out of the way, I can move on to cheerier topics, such as my bus ride this morning. My bus ride to work each day consists of two different buses, with a transfer between the two downtown — and not the  nicest part of downtown either.  There is ALWAYS an interesting assortment of people that ride the bus.

Today, I present to you, The Archaeologist.

So, I get to my downtown stop transfer, and there is a man with a shovel, a HUGE square container of water, a backpack, these huge ass 1970’s-esque glasses and a tilly hat.  He looked like he was about to embark on a Walkabout or some safari or something.  All he needed was a monocle instead of the glasses, and he would have looked identical to Bwana Clyde Batty from the Hilarious House of Frightenstein.  He even had the fake British accent.  True story.

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