Trains. Fuck trains. Especially those Amtrak trains. Fuck them square in their cabooses. Why, you ask? You don’t even have to ask, I’m going to tell you anyways. Every morning at 6, 7, even these trains roll on by my dorm at . But that isn’t what bothers me. Oh no. I understand that people need to get places. Heaven forbid Frank from is late for his business meeting in . Boss-man Todd wouldn’t be too happy with him. What I don’t understand is, why do these trains feel the need to toot their horns at the loudest volume possible, for the longest period of time, RIGHT outside of my dorm. And when I say RIGHT outside of my dorm, I mean DIRECTLY outside of my building. To put it into perspective, if I felt the need to, I could open my third story window and throw a baseball at the train. And, although I did win the Little League state title in 1996, I’m no Roger Clemens. No, No, I’m more of a Mark Prior, and I mean the current Mark Prior. (Sorry guys, I’m a Cubs fan too, but seriously, the guy is useless).

Not only do these trains run at all hours in the a.m., but every single time they roll on by my dorm, it seems that the conductor has a heart-attack while clutching the air-horn mechanism. This horn, this God-awful horn, screeches and toots for damn near 30 seconds in one single blow, with multiple blows preceding the initial toot. 30 seconds may not seem like a long time, but try having someone sound an air horn in your ear at 6 in the morning on a Friday. Just try it. I fucking dare you. It wakes me up from even the deepest of slumbers and comatose states.

You know what I usually do on Friday mornings? Well, I’ll tell you what I fucking do on Friday mornings. I usually wake up around from these train assholes. I’m generally confused and in a drunken state. I’m usually not too clear on where I am or what the fuck happened last night…and…what is that knot on my head? Okay, who punched me in the fucking head? Fuck you Brian, you’re an asshole…Next, I roll over in my bed and look at my girlfriend to see if she heard that absurd sound. I look at her face for confirmation and return a face of absolute disgust. This face is probably one of the most awful and dreaded faces on planet earth. This face would include the tightening of my jaw, the squinting of my eyes, and the all-around shriveling of every face muscle that I can possibly control. Actually…in retrospect…I hope she doesn’t think I’m making that face at her…fuck…don’t worry baby, it’s because of the damn train.

Anyways, after I hear this satanic noise and all of the commotion from the locomotive is over, I usually put my arm around my girl and attempt to kiss her while rubbing her lower back area…ya know…I mean, it’s early…I’ve got nothing else to do…I can’t sleep anymore…so, why not try? It usually never works out, but in the rare occasion, it makes up for the obnoxiousness of the Amtrak. So… I suppose I have to say it… Thanks for the 3.5% chance that the morning wood will be relieved, but fuck you for the other 96.5% of the time…it’s really annoying.

But honestly, is this horn-blowing necessary? This is . . We have one of the highest binge drinking rates in the nation. Most students are either busy vomiting, sleeping, in a coma, or too drunk to move at 6 in the morning. It’s not like my neighbor Bob sits in his room anxiously awaiting the coming of the first Amtrak train. It’s not like we give a fuck that the train is here. NO ONE CARES A YOU.

I understand that this horn must be blown for safety…but, I mean, come the fuck on…safety? They have those red flashing lights with bells inside of them to prove that a train is coming. I don’t think I have ever seen one of those go off and thought to myself, “Bullshit. There isn’t a train and I’m going to stand on the tracks to prove it.” And if I ever do that, hit me, I wouldn’t even be all that mad.

On top of these annoying lights and bells, there are guard rails at all intersections preventing cars from crossing, as if anyone in this town is capable or alive enough to operate a car at I really don’t see what these guard rails prove. If I really felt like it, I mean, if I was really motivated to fuck with the train and cross the road, I could probably drive through one of those with my Mom’s SUV. I bet they are made of plywood anyways…what a weak wood.

The worst part of this situation is, it isn’t Amtrak. Freight trains use these railways as well. Same principle applies to these assholes. Why the fuck do you feel the need to wake me and my entire building up at ? We don’t give a damn that you are shipping iron ore and wheat grains from to . I don’t come to your house at 6 in the morning and wake you, your roommates, and your girlfriend up. Maybe that’s what I should do. Yeah, I think I’ll try that. I’m going to find one of these douche’s houses, and, when the time is right, bust into that shit and blow my horn like the Bears just one the Super Bowl. Not so funny now, is it? Damn right it isn’t…douche.

Basically, all I’m saying here is to please shut the fuck up. You don’t even have to shut the fuck up all the time, just most of the time. How about this, you blow your horn as loud and as long as you want on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, but shut up on the weekends. Honestly, I don’t think these train people give a damn…I mean, they obviously don’t. They are probably jealous of us college-going-fancy-folk with our sweet hoodies and beanie caps. Well, ya know what? Fuck you. It’s not my fault your job is so shitty and boring that the only moment of glory you get is when you can blow your air horn in my face. Actually…ya know, I’m sorry. My bad. That isn’t fair to insult a man’s job. I’m actually thinking of applying at Jimmy John’s anyways…

Maybe these conductor guys are living their life’s dream. Maybe as small children they had a train set, complete with the obnoxious horn that was far too loud for normal purposes, but mom and dad let them play with it anyways because they didn’t have any friends. Maybe they really get their jollies by releasing compressed air from a canister…maybe. Either way, I don’t give a fuck, so I’ll leave it at this. Fuck you Amtrak and fuck you freight train. I hope you rot in train hell with that ass-clown, Thomas the Tank Engine……I’ll save that asshole for another time.