Dear John
As with a number of interpersonal issues, writing a letter (with the optional step of posting it on the internet) can be a productive outlet to air one’s grievances. So …
Dearest Singing Guy on the 49 (Bus 7020),
You’re an asshat. But unlike a long line of asshats before you, you at least seem to know it.
I got on around 8 p.m. at Van Ness/Otis, that janky excuse for a block with Power Exchange on it. I only rode until 20th Street, but you actually managed to sing the whole time. But I guess god explicitly forbade you from singing something good, or even bad in a fun way. Whatever it was sounded like something my nephew would find on Barney. While you seem to be at or around the same developmental level as him (my nephew, not Barney. Well, actually…) you still looked closer to 30 than to 3. Unacceptable.
Our very own Suzanne was trolling Flickr getting 
