The time is November 2011, the city, Dublin. One man is spending an awful lot of time sitting on buses and in order to stop him having a bit of a breakdown, which could end violently for someone, he decided to write this.

Bus To Move is the commuting experiences for a month of Jayhaitch. To fully understand his motives for doing this nonsense you should probably read this first

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

15A Nov 23rd 11:20 Muji

God I'm getting old. The collection of tweak and aches brought on by everyday events is gathering momentum. When I bend down my knees click, when I stand my ankles wobble. The collarbone I broke the night before my inter cert began throb when its cold and stings when it's cold. I just ran for the bus only to feel my back spasm in my first stride. When I was younger I could play full length football matches without even stretching. These days when I play badminton the warm ups last longer than the game.

All my teenage heroes have grey in their goatee. So do I now that I think of it.

It's hard to say anything new and fresh about ageing that hasn't been said countless times before by bad tv comedians. I guess we're just lucky that we are alive now. The average life expectancy of men in the 16th century was 34. I imagine a jippy knee is preferable to the black lung.

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