Yesterday the Government backed the decision undertaken by train companies to raise the average train fare by an average of 6000%. Rupert Clamflesh-Jones, Conservative MP for Doncaster East-West and Assistant Under-Secretary to the Assistant Under-Secretary to the Shadow-Shadow Transport Minister, said in a press conference that the move was "Good for Britain as it allows the upper-classes to spend more time in Gentlemens clubs, drinking 100 year old Port, smoking big fuck-off cigars, ogling at gyrating women in gold bikini's and laughing uproariously at the lower classes". After an aide whispered in Mr Clamflesh-Jones' ear, he retracted the statement by mumbling something about trains, planes and 'that fat Canadian bloke'.
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| Rupert Clamflesh-Jones speaking yesterday. Well, some cnut anyway. |
When asked if the fare rises were justifiable considering that Britain already had the highest train fares in the World, Clamflesh-Jones replied, "We are committed to making Britain at the fore-front of everything and this is just another manifesto promise that this Government has delivered upon. Strengthening Britains position as the pioneer of expensive public transportation services merely shows how great the Great in Great Britain really is and that's really really really great."
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| What we are expecting now that fares have gone up |
So, that's good then. This reporter, after buying a monthly season ticket to York from Doncaster for the princely sum of £280, can see where all that extra money is going after taking 3 and a half hours to travel the 30 miles or so. We are obviously paying for the pleasure of standing in over-crowded, cold, windy, noisy carriages, waiting on over-crowded, cold, windy platforms for trains that turn up when they feel like it and when they do, being treated like cattle herded onto the abbatoir fast-track. It's nice to know that all the money us commuters are paying for tickets goes towards those free meals given out in First Class, served under diamond chandeliers on Meerkat-fur carpets while us mere mortals in 'standard' class have to make do with Botulism Betty and her range of ultra-expensive 'snacks', 'sandwiches' and 'drinks' from that infernal trolley served under a flickering strip light on stained, worn-out industrial floor-covering. (*)
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| The 16.03 Doncaster to Mexborough |
(* All fucking true, unfortunately).
