Twins on their father’s side in the underground

After half a year without telling you about my experiences in the public transport, I’m back with a matter of human rights — or almost.

There's no mirror.

There’s no mirror. [source]

Last month a Catalan blogger requested to the void — since none of his followers have a saying in the issue — that silent carriages on trains be installed. Although I see eye to eye with him, my idea wasn’t to give a choice between silent and noisy carriages, but force silence, either with a device that cancels sound waves or by legally implementing the decease of the source of the sound.

You might think that singing beggars annoy me, as well as the commoners who spend the money for their education on a mobile phone to share with everyone around their musical — if that can be called music — criterion — as I refuse to call it taste. True, but incomplete. What irritates me the most is people who proudly display their ignorance with a flourish in surreal conversations like the following:

girl 1 — They are twins on their father’s side — she asserted.
girl 2 — Do you mean that they have the same father and different mothers? — that’s some nonsense.
girl 3 — Wait a second. If they are twins, they must have the same mother — said the clever one.
girl 2 — I don’t get it, then — I wasn’t surprised.
girl 3 — I’ve got it! You mean they have the same mother and she was fertilised by two different men — and she wasn’t the clever one anymore.
girl 1 — Yes. That’s it — however, even if there had been a weird in vitro triangle, how would that make them twins on their father’s side exactly?

Let the heads start rolling.

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