He got on the bus but when he saw what was coming out from under the driver’s coat, he was horrified, he looked better and: “There were thousands and he didn’t even feel it, they were coming out everywhere!” He filmed everything, people all over the world don’t know what to think: – Check the comments 👇👇👇

On a bus, a bizarre incident occurred. The bus was full, it was a typical day, and the driver was silently cruising along.

One of the passengers noticed something strange on the driver’s coat; upon closer inspection, he discovered several insects crawling all over the driver’s neck and ears. The man was astonished beyond belief that there were hundreds.

He began to record the entire event, and he subsequently posted the footage to Facebook. Primo Onipa, the passenger who recorded the incident, said in a Facebook post that the insects were lice and that he chose to humiliate the bus driver because he was so upset and disgusted by what had happened.

The driver, according to Primo, smelled awful and appeared to have not had a bath or changed his clothing in more than a year. In fact, the unfortunate driver can be seen in the photos looking to have become accustomed to these little parasites and no longer seem to affect him.

After viewing the video on Facebook, internet users expressed their outrage fairly sharply, stating that a man with lice should not be in charge of a bus carrying many passengers.

Lice are microscopic insects that live on the scalp and feed on blood. When they eat, they shoot saliva into the skin, which causes itching.

The louse is the size of a sesame seed and is gray/brown in appearance. Because of the optimal temperature circumstances, the female secretes a chemical that ensures the attachment of the eggs to the hair; eggs are attached to 3–4 millimeters of the base of the hair.

It usually occurs behind the ears and in the occipital region of the neck; at the beginning, during the initial illness, itching may not be present. The chance of superinfection rises when the sores are scratched.

Since they are little and move quickly, lice are hard to spot. Eventually, though, they can be “caught” by covering the contaminated region with sticky tape.
Lice are among the worst parasites for people, which is bad for one’s self-esteem and self-image.

Lice, according to experts, are not an indication of poverty or poor hygiene. Lice may exist on the cleanest of people. The main issue is that they may spread a number of illnesses and are transmitted from person to person.

Take a look at the images of the bus driver, who has hundreds of lice crawling all over him:

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Nobody expected fifty bikers at my son\’s funeral. Least of all the four teenagers who put him there. I\’m not a crier. Twenty-six years as a high school janitor taught me to keep my emotions locked down tight. But when that first Harley rumbled into the cemetery parking lot, followed by another, then another, until the whole place vibrated with thunder—that\’s when I finally broke. My fourteen-year-old boy, Mikey, had hanged himself in our garage. The note he left mentioned four classmates by name. \”I can\’t take it anymore, Dad,\” he\’d written. \”They won\’t stop. Every day they say I should kill myself. Now they\’ll be happy.\” The police called it \”unfortunate but not criminal.\” The school principal offered \”thoughts and prayers\” then suggested we have the funeral during school hours to \”avoid potential incidents.\” I\’d never felt so powerless. Couldn\’t protect my boy while he was alive. Couldn\’t get justice after he was gone. Then Sam showed up at our door. Six-foot-three, leather vest, gray beard down to his chest. I recognized him—he pumped gas at the station where Mikey and I would stop for slushies after his therapy appointments. \”Heard about your boy,\” he said, standing awkward on our porch. \”My nephew did the same thing three years back. Different school, same reason.\” I didn\’t know what to say, so I just nodded. \”Thing is,\” Sam continued, looking past me like the words hurt to say, \”nobody stood up for my nephew. Not at the end, not after. Nobody made those kids face what they did.\” He handed me a folded paper with a phone number. \”You call if you want us there. No trouble, just… presence.\” I didn\’t call. Not at first. But the night before the funeral, I found Mikey\’s journal. Pages of torment. Screenshots of text messages telling my gentle, struggling son to \”do everyone a favor and end it.\” My hands shook as I dialed the number. \”How many people you expecting at this funeral?\” Sam asked after I explained. \”Maybe thirty. Family, some teachers. None of his classmates.\” \”The ones who bullied him—they coming?\” \”Principal said they\’re planning to, with their parents. To \’show support.\’\” The words tasted like acid. Sam was quiet for a moment. \”We\’ll be there at nine. You won\’t have to worry about a thing.\” I didn\’t understand what he meant until I saw them the next morning—a sea of leather vests, weathered faces, and solemn eyes. The Hell\’s Angels patches visible as they formed two lines leading to the small chapel, creating a corridor of protection. The funeral director approached me, panic in his eyes. \”Sir, there are… numerous motorcycle enthusiasts arriving. Should I call the police?\” \”They\’re invited guests,\” I said. When the four boys arrived with their parents, confused expressions turned to fear as they saw the bikers. Sam stepped forward and…. Check out the first comment to read the full story

Nobody expected fifty bikers at my son’s funeral. Least of all the four teenagers who put him there. I’m not a crier. Twenty-six years as a high…