Venting Vehicular Venom

No!  I'm Not Spitting Petrol
Although, come to think of it, that would be one of the handier Crap Superpowers to have, wouldn't it?  You need never worry about running empty, unless you drive a diesel, and if you were of the violent street-protester type then you'd always be in demand for filling bottles, ever with a full one to hand in order to keep your mouth wet.  Mind you, the need to be wary at bonfires might balance things out a little.
      None of which has anything to do with today's Intro*.   Today the 24 turned up on time, and it was a double-decker - but no Metro, so no Cryptic Crossword.  Damn it, don't these people realise I need to start the day with a gentle mental challenge?

Conrad: mentally derelict

     Also, the number display was a horrid low-contrast pointillist nonsense that meant you could only read what it said as the very bus was looming over you.  Given that only two services halt at this stop, the 409 and 24, and the 409 had already gone by, it's even money that this bus would be another 409.  In fact it was the 24, my cup runneth over (which is why the English invented saucers).  Also, be it noted, a lot of schools end their terms this week, meaning a lot less traffic on the roads.  First usually adapt their timetables for this, by a few minutes each way; functionally useless, agreed, except they need to justify paying Tarquin and Maximillian, those illiterate, innumerate, drunken rascals who cobble together timetables.  Sorry, "crimetables".

Tarquin, hard at work Monday morning

     If I cannot harp on about today's Cryptic, then allow me to bore you with the details of yesterday's  - SIT BACK DOWN!  Okay, the clue was "The Criterion presenting Shakespearean jester (10)".  What on earth?  Answer = "TOUCHSTONE" - first of all, MATEY, this isn't a criterion - a touchstone might be an article of faith or a definition, a criterion it is not.  NOT NOT NOT!  Touchstone, apparently, is a jester in "Much Ado About Nothing" (an apt description of academia's response to the Bark of Avon) which I've i) Never read, and, ii) Never intend to.  So there, stitch that <ahem> sow there.  
     Whilst still on an argumentative roll, how about "The sound of an aircraft in New Hampshire capital (7)", which turns out to be CONCORD.  NO!  That's the NAME of an aircraft you mendacious slovens.
     Bah!  Dog Buns!

HARPSICHORD.  Close enough

"MILQUETOAST"
After Casper Milquetoast, a cartoon character of the Thirties, the very definition of a Mister Meek, a man perpetually put upon.  Art?

Ah, that hat

     A very well-judged surname because toast, by it's very name and definition, has to be crisp and crunchy, not rendered soggy and saggy by steeping it in milk, in the manner of a horrid Continental breakfast.  Conrad still remembers the sheer visceral horror of that scene in "Brazil" when Sam**, our hero, picks up a slice of toast to eat on the go - only to find out that it's pliable and floppy - the damn stuff is nearly alive.  Brrr!

Here's Mud In Your Eye
Both eyes, actually, and a generous slathering for the rest of your wretched body, Reckorderlig.  Conrad was moved to anger - it doesn't take much, really - by an advert as seen on a bus stop this morning, advertising the gruesome slop they dare to bottle and call cider.  Art?

Bah!  

      Really?  REALLY?***
     "Strawberry and Lime", "Passionfruit", "Mango and Pineapple".  They sound like a peculiarly naff brand of alcopops.  Cider is made with apples, sir, APPLES!  Not a tropical fruit cocktail.

A Little More "Bleeding Edge" Explanation
Because, dammit, if I've sweated over the novel and the internet and my notebook, the least I can do is inflict a little intellectual leavening upon you the uncultured masses.  Don't forget, dropping one of these definitions in snobby society is a guaranteed "in" as people will oooh! and aaaah! as if you'd actually read - and understood^ - the whole novel.
      P45: Zima:  A clear, lightly-carbonated alcoholic drink made by Coors, notably in citrus flavours.  No longer retailed in South Canada as of 2008, but the Japanese still drink it.

Don't drink too much.  Or you'll need Doctor Z.

     Winnie List:  Apparently to do with looking for employment, this is taken only from the novel's context as there's nothing on-line to explain it.  Possibly a long-defunct website.
     P46: Doctor Zizmor:  Famed New York dermatologist whose (self-designed) adverts were a staple of the New York subway.

Wow.  Looks kinda - religious -
(Conrad leaves)

     You may have noticed that we've done without the motley, or the gallimaufry, today.  We've not been lucky with our unleashed metaphoricals recently.  Tomorrow - perhaps a pavane.


*  I do this a lot.
** A milquetoast who toughens up
***  Sorry there are so many upper case words today, it's just that I'm extra-specially grumpy due to the insanely high temperatures today.  18 Degrees C!
^  This is the important bit