Have you ever been bored, irritated and don't know what to do so you start picking random things apart? Ruthlessly tearing apart someone or something for no apparent reason? For nothing more than to take your mind off of your current situation?
Well, if you have, then you will understand this post, because that's exactly what this is.
This isn't a heartwarming "we are each other's greatest resource/the world is an adventure just go for it" post.
Not even close.
This is me ranting about everything air travel related.... and coming from a guy that's in the sky a fair amount; I've got a thought or two ready in the overhead bin. So put your seat in the upright position and buckle up because there's going to be some turbulence.
Yes, this is going to be a long, sweaty flight...... and I say sweaty because in hitting a new low in my cheapness, I have found myself wearing more clothes on this flight than Steven Tyler wears scarfs.....
This is me ranting about everything air travel related.... and coming from a guy that's in the sky a fair amount; I've got a thought or two ready in the overhead bin. So put your seat in the upright position and buckle up because there's going to be some turbulence.
Yes, this is going to be a long, sweaty flight...... and I say sweaty because in hitting a new low in my cheapness, I have found myself wearing more clothes on this flight than Steven Tyler wears scarfs.....
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| Dude DOES look like a lady |
Now why would I do this you ask?
Well, because I'm "thrifty". And by thrifty I mean cheap. I'm flying on a budget airline that wanted me to pay a bullshit amount to check a bag so instead of just paying the money like a normal human and enjoying my flight, I decided that the better alternative would be to pack my carry on more full than Eminem's medicine cabinet and then wear the remaining clothes that didn't fit into it on my person. The end result? Me wearing 3 shirts, a hoodie and two pairs of jeans and more swass than is acceptable to talk about.
It's times like this I wish that I was just a guy I know and not actually me. Sometimes I think I'm better as a story.
Well, because I'm "thrifty". And by thrifty I mean cheap. I'm flying on a budget airline that wanted me to pay a bullshit amount to check a bag so instead of just paying the money like a normal human and enjoying my flight, I decided that the better alternative would be to pack my carry on more full than Eminem's medicine cabinet and then wear the remaining clothes that didn't fit into it on my person. The end result? Me wearing 3 shirts, a hoodie and two pairs of jeans and more swass than is acceptable to talk about.
It's times like this I wish that I was just a guy I know and not actually me. Sometimes I think I'm better as a story.
Anyways, let's get to the timeline. I find myself in Munich Germany at the airport and trying to get to London. I somehow get through German security with no questions which kinda blew my mind. For a culture that is famous for being sticklers for the rules, I was expecting to get the whole NINE! yards at security. Luckily for me, there was no snapping of rubber gloves or dropping of my lederhosen so my bratwurst stayed off the flight radar. Wunderbar as they say.
Anything for a pun my friends.
Going through immigration however is a different story. I forget to have my passport ready in hand so when the officer asks for it I realize it's in the pair of jeans I'm wearing..... under the other pair of jeans. I'm wearing.
Not often you have to write a sentence like that is it?
So under his wary German look, I reach inside my pants, dig around awkwardly to find my passport and give the uncomfortably warm document to him. If this isn't begging for secondary screening then I don't know what is. I'm digging around in my pants like Zoolander in a walkoff and an equally stupid look on my face.
Anything for a pun my friends.
Going through immigration however is a different story. I forget to have my passport ready in hand so when the officer asks for it I realize it's in the pair of jeans I'm wearing..... under the other pair of jeans. I'm wearing.
Not often you have to write a sentence like that is it?
So under his wary German look, I reach inside my pants, dig around awkwardly to find my passport and give the uncomfortably warm document to him. If this isn't begging for secondary screening then I don't know what is. I'm digging around in my pants like Zoolander in a walkoff and an equally stupid look on my face.
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| Glad I wore underwear today |
After somehow getting through immigration I realize I'm riper than a day old avocado so I hit the overpriced cologne store and "freshen up." It's a classic cheapster move I learned back in college (told you it wasn't a waste of money Dad). So I waddle in like a penguin wearing snow pants and peruse the testers. I touch everything and buy nothing of course.
Thanks for the free swagger Jean Paul Gautier. Sucker...
By the time I get to my gate, I'm way sweatier than any man should be for this climate and situation.
I'm Ben Stiller eating Indian sweaty.
I'm like Rob Ford doing.....anything.
Speaking of the world's most interesting culture, at the gate I see a Japanese traveller try to get through with two carry ons. Bad move bro. Def not happening. The sloth-like gate urchin pulls him aside and yellow cards his ass.
Rookie move biiatch. Clearly you should've just worn everything you own.
Now you just look dumb.
Meanwhile my backpack is so heavy that my arms are going numb and I'm wearing so many layers that I feel like I'm actually wearing Kim Kardashian.....(if Kim Kardashian was a onesie with meat sweats).
Good luck erasing that mental image from the old brain box.
Once on board they make us watch the "what to do when we crash" show. Good times. Gotta love a good inflight movie. Judging by the low quality of this gem, it looks like an indy.
Although I guess it could be worse:
Up next: It's time to have the "power down your phones or else it's your fault if we crash" talk.
Now, this nonsense is insane to me. Seriously, what year is it? If my texting is going to bring this plane down then maybe it's your fault for having a shitty plane.
Now, this nonsense is insane to me. Seriously, what year is it? If my texting is going to bring this plane down then maybe it's your fault for having a shitty plane.
#firstworldproblems
In fact, I can't help but wonder how we as a society of frequent flyer point collectors haven't moved past the "Is this your first time flying?" routine. "Wait... the male end of the seat belt goes into the female end?! Gee goly! We gots da same kinda thing back on the farm. Wait till I tell Ma."
Seriously though, haven't we graduated from this Mickey mouse bullshit? Frankly, if you can't figure out the seat belt then that's called Darwinism and I will gladly climb over your soon to be extinct self in the event of emergency.
Yep, it's cold up here folks.
Said the sweaty guy wearing two pairs of pants.
You know, if I was in charge, (KDP for class prez 2020) when you checked in for your flight online you would simply have to click the "we told you so" box saying you've flown before, understand the process and won't sue when you forget everything when it's do or die.
If you check no indicating that you're an inbred hick who's never flown before and need a how-to on what to do when your plane crashes and kills everyone on board, then they would simply seat you and all the other geniuses together at the back of the plane....... by the toilets. An aeronautical version of riding the short bus if you will. That way, the stewardesses knows where all the stupid is and can perform a special safety puppet show staring Peppy the puke bag.
Yep, it's cold up here folks.
Said the sweaty guy wearing two pairs of pants.
You know, if I was in charge, (KDP for class prez 2020) when you checked in for your flight online you would simply have to click the "we told you so" box saying you've flown before, understand the process and won't sue when you forget everything when it's do or die.
If you check no indicating that you're an inbred hick who's never flown before and need a how-to on what to do when your plane crashes and kills everyone on board, then they would simply seat you and all the other geniuses together at the back of the plane....... by the toilets. An aeronautical version of riding the short bus if you will. That way, the stewardesses knows where all the stupid is and can perform a special safety puppet show staring Peppy the puke bag.
Apparently I've been holding this in a while....
And speaking of holding it in.... I already have to fart. Of course. What is it about flying that makes you feel like you had broccoli, beans and eggs for breaky? I'm bloated, sweaty and more uncomfortable than Stephen Harper trying to look like a human.
And speaking of holding it in.... I already have to fart. Of course. What is it about flying that makes you feel like you had broccoli, beans and eggs for breaky? I'm bloated, sweaty and more uncomfortable than Stephen Harper trying to look like a human.
Honestly though! No one needs to suffer! If we all recline then we are all sitting pretty... Except of course for the 1st timers riding the shortbus in the back row.... because that last row in the very back by the shitters doesn't recline but frankly, they can eat it for not knowing how to do up a fucking seat belt in the first place.
Ok, what else can I rant about to take my mind off how gross I feel right now...... The stewardesses? Nope. Love em. Always crushing on the stewardesses;)
Maybe I could peruse the in flight magazine?
Ya...no. That's a hard pass. Who reads those anyways? Aside from surely being covered in puke stains and baby germs, (I mean germs from babies, not germs who are still tiny little babies) it's only uber lame articles and advertisements for expensive crap you could find at a bargain bin at Best Buy.
My dad. That's who reads them by the way. He not only reads them but steals the fucking things to bring home and read again. Blows my mind. The 1995 issue of Air Canada's Enroute magazine? Pops still has it. Way to stick it to the man papa smurf.
Good to have a hobby I guess.
Good to have a hobby I guess.
Oooh in other news, the captain is back on the PA again letting us know what a pleasure it's been flying together. Is it just me or does this weird you out a bit after the 3rd time of him reminding us how much they've all ENJOYED serving us? I feel like he's lonelier up there than Julian Assange at Christmas. Apparently Howard Hughes is getting a little squirely flying solo.
Yes, cheapness misses no detail at 30 000 feet my friends.
Next up: the pressurized yogurt that's impossible to open and will no doubt find a way to squirt all over my crotch as soon as I do. It's at this moment that I feel very proud at my preparedness for having two pairs of pants on.
I'd say "winning" but I think 2015 told us it's time to retire that bit of pop culture slang.
I'd say "winning" but I think 2015 told us it's time to retire that bit of pop culture slang.
Ok so right about now you're thinking: "Is there no end to this pointless, sweat-fuelled ranting?"
Honestly? Not anytime soon. My flight still has a while to land and I could do this until the wheels make rubber skid marks on the tarmac but I think I've made my point.... which was....
Good point.
Honestly? Not anytime soon. My flight still has a while to land and I could do this until the wheels make rubber skid marks on the tarmac but I think I've made my point.... which was....
Good point.
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