May 1
I think we're all missing some real pervert potential around buses. Massive beasts of burden, controlled by a single driver, for the benefit of the masses. Forced to go at their own shuttering pace, eeking out more movement long after exhaustion. Stop and go. Stop and go. You have no choice as to when your rest is only a moment's respite, and when you will be allowed to truly rest your aching bones.
The only sensations you have are the pressure on your back, the hands on your steering wheel, and the feeling of sharp, hard asphalt on your aching wheels.
Stop and go.
