A Bachelor's Diary Episode 7 Getting Good At Goodbye

Hello friends, how goes being you?
Let's talk. I'll go first;)
If you are reading this then I'm going to assume that you've been keeping up with my days on the Bachelorette Canada and know how episode 7 ended. In case you haven't, here's the episode in irritatingly zoomed in and in poor quality on YouTube. YAY! Skip to 17:57 min to see our rock climbing date and 26:35 for the conversation up on the top of the mountain.

Now that we are all on the same page, let's get down what is going to be my final blog about this show! Holy moly me o my how time flies when you're talking about yourself. Should we cue the dramatic music? Does anybody know Hans Zimmer?

Nobody? Bueller? Ok... moving on.
With this being my goodbye episode, surely there's a lot to talk about........
but here's the thing: I don't know if we really need to.
You see, if you've read my other Bachelorette blogs starting way back when this was all just a maybe then you know where I'm at with all this and how I feel about everything up until now. You know all my fears and reservations about trusting reality tv. You know all the funny, strange and sometimes frustrating moments with this random group of great guys. And you also know the deeper moments with Jas and what that meant to me. So, sure we could hash out that last conversation we had together on that mountain top and get into how it felt to say goodbye. I could tell you what it was like to look this amazing girl in the eye, one I had grown to really like and say those words that I knew would set us down different roads, but the truth is, when I sat down and watched it on TV, it was (for the most part) all there. No frustrating TV edit, no bullshit, just the full conversation in all its rawness and honesty.

And I've got to say that the cynic in my was pleasantly surprised. So to rehash the whole thing here just seems..... unneeded. I've always believed that the truth will set you free (I've also always been the kind of guy who says cheesy stuff like that) and in this case I think it really applies.
Today's gift of truth is tomorrow's freedom from regret. 

With Jas, there was a lot we wanted to talk about and while there was so many things we never really got the chance to discuss, we did manage to make time for the most important things. The soulful things that come from below the skin and deep within the heart. The things that make up who we are. Actually, when I think back on our talks, it seems like we ONLY had super heavy talks and while sure, I'm willing to go there sometimes, the fact is in normal life I wouldn't do that right out of the gate with someone. "Do you think that love lasts?" is a great opening question to scare the hell out of your next tinder date.

But the bachelorette world isn't normal dating, it's more like relationship steroids so we found ourselves talking about the heaviest stuff first and trying to work our way backwards. If it was up to me, I would've like a one on one date to Netflix and chill in our pyjama pants where we order in take out, watch a good movie and maybe play some crib.
Which doesn't exactly make for thrilling TV.


So old people card games aside, I'm sure I came across as that dude that talks too many feels on the show but I'm actually glad it happened that way because when it came time to say goodbye, neither of us had to worry that we didn't say what needed to be said. There's a peace that comes with truth and when it comes to Jas and I, I know we're good because we both know who we are and what we are looking for and most importantly; we were both honest to each other about that. Was I sad? Yeah. Yeah I was. Part of me will always think about her and wonder about what if she had said yes to taking off together...... but I respect her for knowing what she needed and I truly do wish the very best for her with whoever she chooses to make a life with. While we might be going different ways, I really do believe that
Your adventure is wherever you choose to make it

So go make it great Jas.

Getting good at goodbye

So instead of giving you the play by play of what was said on that mountain, I want to instead take this opportunity to talk about something other than me for once (I know, this is a rarity so soak it up) I want to tell you about the people who made this show happen: the crew.
Now, in my past, I've spent a fair amount of time working on film sets (a story for another day) so I know a thing or two about that whole world. I've been on enough bad sets with unhappy crews to know a good one when I see it so let me tell you about the crew that made this show happen: The were by far the NICEST, hardworking group of people I've ever seen in this industry. Bar none. Period. Full stop. Othersentencethatshowsimportance. One of my biggest let downs with writing about this whole journey was that I had to agree to not break the 4th wall so I wasn't able to discuss that side of things and for me that was HUGELY interesting. I promise this crew was way more cooler than us bachelors and while I'm technically breaking my agreement by saying all this, I would hope that they let it slide this one time seeing how it's said in love and with the utmost respect. (Read: this is me asking you guys to please let this slide and not sue my broke ass.)
Still friends?





Alright:)

The producers also took a Quantum Leap of faith in letting me write this blog in the first place when they very easily could've kiboshed the whole thing and shut me down like Warren Wells Fargo. No one would've blamed them had they done that yet they trusted me to tell the story the way I saw it and for that I owe them my thanks. Writing about this journey unpacked everything that was floating around in my head and led me to some very needed lessons about what I'm looking for. It also let me get away with making way too many cat puns while trashing the other guys with semi good humoured jokes ........so that was alright too.
The relationships I built with this amazing crew carried me through what were some very confusing and emotional times and I will keep these people in a special place in my heart. Thank you so much for everything my friends. I'm honoured to have been a part of it.

And speaking of amazing people..... let's talk about the other guys on the show. How surprised was I to find that I actually really liked all these dudes?! We joke that we went on TV to find love and ended up finding it for each other. Now, twenty guys in love isn't the kind of movie I would normally rent.......but it turns out this one was definitely worth it.  #bachelorbromance2016 #bestieswithtestes #dontyoutestthesebesties
I related to all of these guys in one way or another and I have to say; I miss those crazy dudes. I'm still holding out that the network makes a show where we all get an apartment together. Kickstarter anyone?

 

But as much as I loved all these cats, there's one guy I want to tell you about in particular and in fact, there's a conversation we had that perfectly sums him up. On the show, this bachelor really dove in head first and wore his heart on his sleeve and as time progressed, we became pretty good friends. I watched him fall hard for Jasmine and then get pretty torn up as he had to watch her date other guys. (don't try this at home kids trust me, it sucks) I fell into a bit of a big brother role with some of these guys on the show so I felt like I should warn him and tell him to protect his heart. I told him to remember that this was a reality show and that he could get really hurt. His response was:
"When it comes to love, you just have to go for it, regardless of where you are and how you find it."

While I didn't realize it at the time, this talk wasn't me teaching him something but instead him teaching me. I was wrong to tell him to guard his heart and looking back now I'm so glad that he didn't listen to me and my foolish ways. And if by any chance you don't already know who I'm talking about, here's a song he kept asking me to play while we were on the show and that should give you a pretty good idea who I'm talking about.

So many feels;)



You know, considering this was supposed to be a short blog with me not having much to say, I seem to have found a way to ramble on for far too long (it's kinda my thang) so let's wrap this up before the academy throws on the music and let's get to the final thanks of the evening and Jerry's....I mean Kevin P's final thought:

I want to thank you. The reader. For taking the time to read my little thoughts and watch this silly show. For investing in me and coming along for the ride with all the highs and lows. For all my friends and family who gave me so much truly unbelievable support through this and also for all the viewers too, who reached out to offer their support as well (not an easy thing to do to put your neck out). Doing this show has not only taught me a lot about myself but also about people as a whole. I know I've said it before..... but I really do believe that we are all just a bunch of weirdos looking for love. That's it. It's all we have and it's what this whole thing is about. It's what we all need, what we all are searching for and what brings out the best in all of us, even when it sometimes needs to destroy us to do so.
So with all that said, I'll leave you with that one last lesson that my good friend Mikhela showed me:






Let down your guard...
Let love in...
And take the leap into the unknown.












Written with the biggest love I can possibly offer you.
See you on the road,
K

A Bachelors Diary Episode 1

Hey friends. I want to tell you a story about that time I ended up on a show called The Bachelorette. It's a pretty weird story and there are many steps that took me to this improbable adventure but let's skip ahead right to the moment the first night began. Cool beans?
Alrighty then. Here goes.


An introduction

The hotel door opens and I head out into the world, and by that I mean the hallway of the Fairmont at the Vancouver airport. After months of knowing this day was coming, the big night is finally here. I'm dressed to the nine's...... but I feel like ones (math: not my strong suit). The problem is, my stomach is fighting some kind of trench warfare that I'm pretty sure it's losing. I feel like I might actually be dying. If this was a movie I'd be Sean Bean's character.

It's funny. Because he dies a lot. He sucks at not dying.

Anyhoo....
As I'm lead down the hallway I remind myself that sick or not, I'm going to carpe diem the hell of of this night and nothing will change my mind. Too much has gone into getting me here and as the kids say on Insta: #postivevibesonly
Once I get to the lobby, I'm introduced to four other guys. All far too good looking, all looking  a bit confused and skittish. Kinda like the way cats look on an airplane.

But this post isn't about cats. For that you would have to watch "The Cat Bachelor."
Yup. That's a real thing, but let's not get sidetracked, alright meow?

The first guy I meet is named Dana, who I immediately rename as Lieutenant Commander Data (in my head of course) as he looks a lot like a robot from a nerd show I wouldn't watch.
Ok....... lezbi honest; I reek of geek and used to love Star Trek The Next Generation.

Don't bring me into this bro

The next bachelor introduces himself as Wale. He has attitude and personality without having to say a word.... but he does anyways. A lot. His mouth opens and it's a while before it closes. Everyone laughs when he does. I make out none of it as at this point I'm still using most of my focus to not die from whatever is trying to crawl its way out of my stomach. I smile so as to divert suspicion that my handshakes are probably giving them all Ebola.

Our next contestant is David and I would've sworn he was the host as he just has that look. He sports a big Colgate smile, has a likeable/nonthreatening face and is rocking a bright blue suit that makes him look like the kind of diabetes candy you bought when you were eight. #baddecisions
He's all personality and already making jokes about how "good looking we all are."
I can tell I'm going to like this guy already.




The last guy I meet is the first guy I noticed. "Hey I'm Kevin" he says, stealing my line. He continues on, saying words I don't listen to because I'm too busy sizing him up. The dude looks like a football player with long hair, a deep beer commercial voice and I can see he's built like He-Man through his suit. He looks like he came out of the womb as a marine or a firefighter or something. I can tell I'm going to hate this guy already.
But actually I don't, he seems pretty cool and relaxed,.....probably because he realizes he's the better of the Kevins.
Dammit. Before our introduction ends, I've already made up my mind that we are going to fight to the death. There can only be one.

I challenge you...... to a thumb war.

And by that I mean he would totally destroy me. But y'know, one can dream.

The limo pulls up so we all pile in and very quickly find the champagne. We look like a bunch of tweens going off to prom. 
INSERT LOSING VIRGINITY JOKE HERE. 
Wale is in full hype mode about the night, other Kevin is chill and taking it all in, David is still jazzed about how "good looking we all are."
As the champagne goes down, we begin getting to know each other and loosening up. Fifteen minutes later we are are all besties with testes....(until the limo door opens and we begin battling over the same girl that is) but that moment hasn't arrived yet. For now, we sit, wait and wonder what will happen next. "I wonder what she's like? Where is she from? Have any of you ever watched the show?" We all seem to have the same questions but not a lot of answers. Then David asks "Hey so what are you going to do when you get out of the limo? Kev? What's your plan?" They all turn and look at me.
Cue awkward penguin Kevin. 

You know that moment when someone asks you a question that you really don't want to answer? Like when your parents ask you why you're still single or your boss asks you about why you need that day off? Ya well for me that's this. I know what I'm going to do when I get out of this limo but I definitely wasn't planning on sharing that with these guys. When amongst the wolves, hold your cards close my friends......OR y'know, put all your cards on the table and tell your competition everything. That works too. "I'm going to play her a song on my ukulele" I admit meekly.
For the first time since getting in this limo, there's silence.
David: "Wow man. That's cool but that's a lot of pressure dude. If I were you I'd be worried about screwing up on national TV." 
How to screw with your competition 101. 
#theartofwar
Then Wale does what Wale does best and breaks the silence. 
"Ok since we are the first limo we are now code name A-Team!" Wale says. We cheers our champagne and then we get the word. It's time.
Other Kevin is first. #thisbetternotbeforeshadowing. We wait. Then Wale next. We Wait. Then David. The wait feels like forever. I begin thinking about my choice to play the uke. Is this a mistake?
Damn you David.
Well played.
You see, anyone who knows me knows I like playing ukulele, and I probably would've brought it out at some point during this adventure anyways but I can't help but worry that playing it right off the bat might come across cheesy.....
But then again, this is the reality TV show about love and anyone who knows me already knows, I am pure cheese anyway. Gouda level cheese in fact, so I figure why not just show her who I am? Who knows, maybe she's a a music lover like me?
"Ok. You're up." the PA says.
So I take out my uke named Luke, open the door and step into a whole new world.


The limo entrance


The door opens and all I see are lights everywhere. To my left there's this beautiful old stone mansion, covered in creeping vines...... and standing beside it, is a girl in a red dress. The soft lights fall on her exposed shoulders, making her glow like a story from our youth and I can already see her big smile. The whole thing feels like I stepped into a dream and my heart begins picking up pace.
Ok here we are Kevin. Don't screw this up. Go. Be good, be honest.
I begin to play my little ukulele and as I walk down the path towards her, part of me wishes this moment wouldn't end .......but I'm quickly running out of time and before I know it, I'm standing there in front of the most beautiful girl. My always overthinking brain begins goes Phelps mode and swims through her every detail. She has deep blue eyes and long, blond tussled hair that falls off her shoulders. She's petite and reminds me of a Tinker Bell.... if Tinker Bell was a laid back surfer chick in an evening gown. There's a dozen other things I notice about her, but more than anything it's her smile, her warm disarming smile that immediately gets me. It melts my attempt at cool and takes me back in it's rawness. It feels honest. It's the kind of smile that men want to be the reason for. I don't even know her and yet I already want to know everything. On the outside though, I'm still playing away.... but no words yet. I should probably use words. Words are good.

To be honest, writing this now, long after it all happened, I'd be lying if I said I knew exactly what I said to her in that moment. The intensity kind of sidelined me. I know I said things and did end up using words though. I probably looked at her too much and likely made a joke at my expense to break the tension but I don't know what it was. I do know though, that I played her a song, one that I had written for that very moment. I'm pretty sure that I didn't get it all out right and flubbed the lines (as I often do) but here's how it was written:

I know that I'm probably not supposed to say

What it is I'm thinking but I think I'll say it anyway

I know that I'm probably supposed to play it cool

But oh no, that ain't me, I'm surely gonna act a fool

In love, we act crazy in ways

we're scared to be us and we can't sleep for days

and it's hard to believe

that she'll like me for me

and I don't know just what I should say

In love, we can't help but be weird

we get all caught up in the things that we feared

but it's all that we've got

so let's give it a shot

and know at the end of the day, that

I don't pretend to know

how this all will go

and where tomorrow leads

and how the next page reads

but if you're willing to try

then know that so am I

let's adventure you and me

where we end up watch and see

We're just a bunch of weirdos looking for love

I never intended to finish the song. Instead, I left it unfinished and open as an invitation to her. I hoped that maybe we could write the rest of it together, instead of one stranger singing it to another. I remember she liked that idea and then we both smiled for what seemed like a long time before I finally went in the mansion.




The Mansion of Men


I walk through the doors, still high on the moment I just left and all I see is bros. Bachelors in suits and the whole thing feels like I walked into the wrong eHarmony meet up..... but it turns out we all have lots to talk about. Each of us started down this crazy adventure alone, forbidden to tell anything to our friends and coworkers so we begin bonding over the experience together. There's so much to talk about but more than anything, we talk about the girl. Up until this point, none of us had even seen her, let alone known anything about her so we begin to share stories..... and drinks. There's a lot of those as everyone begins pouring down liquid courage and it's around this time that my adrenaline from the previous moment wears off and I remember something very important: I'm sick. Very sick. Stand by me kind of sick and before I know it I realize I'm about to throw up on national television.

This can't be happening. Not now. Please no. Where in the hell is the bathroom?!! I think to myself. I bail on the bromance, plough through the doors and barrel into a stall. In one heave everything inside is very quickly out with my head deep in the ivory bowl. I hear myself make an ungodly noise as I jettison everything that was in my stomach. It's then that I realize that there's other guys in this bathroom and they can hear everything. 

As embarrassed as I am, I don't have time for it because at this point I'm just trying to not die. My stomach is breakdance fighting the rest of my body and it's a serious swing in mood from the moment earlier. I realize that everyone will soon know that I am in meltdown mode and there's no hiding it anymore. I've always had this weird thing with letting people know when I'm sick; I hate it and this situation only makes that worse. Once my stomach eases a bit, I do what I can to clean myself up but truth be told, I look pretty rough. I look like the departing terminal at Vegas....... and if you've done Vegas then you know exactly what I mean. But it doesn't matter. I suck it up. I have to.

Definitely done Vegas

So I go back out to try and make small talk with the bros and from here on out the night is a bachelor blur. At one point I see a guy named Eddy doing bar flair and everyone taking shots. Then there's a cowboy who looks like he's corralled more than a couple for himself. Then there is a giant of a man who seems to really love cats. One thing I definitely remember is a guy coming in wearing an apron...... and nothing else. 
Not sure what you're serving...... but unless it's Gravol I'm gonna pass.



And then, funny enough, I see blue suit David from our "A-Team" and what is he doing? Playing guitar with a three piece band for our polygamist princess of course. 
Gee. Sure hope he doesn't screw up. #theartofwar #topthat

It all seems like I'm having one of those dreams where nothing makes sense and just when I begin to wonder if I'm hallucinating, I see a guy sitting across from me that looks a lot like......me. He catches me weirdly looking at him and gives me a look back, so I have to speak. "Do you look like me?" I say awkwardly. He immediately laughs and says "Yes! I was just thinking that you look like me too!" in a thick French Canadian accent. My friendship with Benoit is instant. His accent reminds me of my days in Montreal and he has a laugh that makes you want to do the same.

Here's a photo of Benoit laughing;)

As the night goes on, guy after guy takes his turn interrupting the previous guy's one on one with Jasmine to try and squeak in some face time. I realize that the night is getting down to the wire so I need to make a move if I want to see her again. I have to put this sickness aside and find out more about this mystery girl. I wiggle my way into the pecking order and before long Jasmine and I are sitting outside talking by the fire. It's a beautiful evening night but she must be cold in her strapless dress I think to myself. Then I realize my fever and chills have me shivering like a Chihuahua with a habit, so we wrap ourselves in blankets and keep warm by the fire while we talk about life and travelling. I notice a tattoo she has that says explore which catches my eye and I want to know more about it. She tells me she got it in Bali, a place I've also traveled to and loved. 
And then she says she got it free at a taco shop on Taco Tuesday.....


Cue Kevin P's way too honest reaction:

Did I seriously just hear she got a free tattoo .....at a taco shack..... because it was Taco Tuesday? Ok, clearly I must be high out of my mind with fever. That must be it. Let's just on....
We continue talking and I find myself surprised at how chill and comfortable she is. She's relaxed, easy to talk to and as it draws me in, I begin to forget how lousy I was feeling before. We are barely into a conversation before there's another bachelor there to take her away. It's over that quickly but the conversation is just enough to make me want to talk more. As soon as she's gone my stomach sends me a break up text of those dreaded words: WE NEED TO TALK so I Usain Bolt to the bathroom for another seven minute ab workout. With my head deep in the petri dish/bowl, I make a mental note: if I do end up making it through this night, we had better go somewhere warm with a beach next episode so I can show off all this hard work. 

The Rose Ceremony

Ok so I'm going to level with you on something: I've never once watched the Bachelor or the Bachelorette before. Not really my thang but I do know about the rose ceremony. I get the idea: girl likes guy=guy gets rose. Seems pretty quick and easy right? 

NOPE. The whole thing takes a hella looooong time. 
Like that friend that won't stop talking about their burning man experience kind of long.
LOOOOOOOONG.
I'm lined up in the shooting gallery with 19 other would be bachelors and the whole thing seems like I'm in a slow motion movie of someone else's life. Standing there on wobbly legs that feel like day old udon noodles, my head is throbbing, my eyes are bloodshot and my stomach is finally giving me the silent treatment after a night of scream fighting. My body is done and I'm just over it......yet there she is holding a rose .....and here I am hoping she gives me one. How does she still look so amazing? I think back on the night and remember that first moment playing ukulele for her. I wonder if she liked it? I wonder about how sick I looked to her? Then I start wondering if I am even her type? Things you don't often hear a girl say: "I like the sick-looking one." "


Not exactly a selling point.

Everything with Jasmine was so brief that I really don't know where I stand with her. Was there a connection? Did it seem like she liked me? I was so concentrated on not puking on her that I can't really remember if she seemed interested.

Hmmm.....If I ever have to write that sentence again; I'm going to have to make some serious life changes.
#pukelele
So as usual, my mind is balls deep in thought when suddenly I hear her say the name I've been waiting to hear all night: "Kevin..........................W."
Oh. Right. That guy. Ugh. I make a mental note that I still have to rock paper scissors KW to the death.......that is, if I even make it through this rose/plank walking ceremony.
More names are called, we wait. Doubt begins to creep in as I watch the rose pile get smaller and smaller. I can feel the sweat drip down my forehead. I can't tell if it's fever sweat or nervous sweat but either way I'm so sick that it probably looks like I'm sweating formaldehyde. 
Why does this whole thing make me so nervous? I ask myself. Then my brain answers with a high school flashback of picking teams in gym class... something that never really went well for me. Somewhere up in between my ears, a repressed memory of me getting my headgear caught in the volleyball net shakes loose. 



Still not ready to talk about that yet.....



Another name called. Only two roses left now. Maybe that's it? Maybe that's all this whole thing was meant to be and I'm going home? Maybe me getting sick had some deeper higher purpose and was the universe's way of teaching me some complicated yet to be seen lesson. I start to wonder about if I would be ok going home tonight. Would this be enough? Could I accept that?

Deep thoughts are had....

In life I tend to think give it your best and the world will decide what is meant to be...... but still, going home tonight would just feel wrong. I can't accept that. Not after everything I've gone through to get here. Not after...

"Kevin P."

.........Oh wait. She said Kevin P! The P means me!!! I leave my thoughts and walk my wobbly legs towards her.



"Will you accept this rose?" she says smiling warmly.
My head gear free smile answers the question before I can say the words......but I say them anyways. "Absolutely." She pins the rose on my lapel.




Well, it looks like I'm going to get to see that smile more often.

Now that I ABSOLUTELY accept.

Now if you'll excuse me................... I'm going to go sleep for a week.

See you soon my friends.

In flight entertainment

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.....

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.

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.

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.

I'm like Chris Farley on a Japanese game show.

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. 

#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.

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.

 God can we just take off already so I can recline my seat and try to sleep. 

And while I'm ranting... Anyone who doesn't let a guy recline his seat is a dicktard. There. I said it. It is the ONLY luxury you get in coach (aside from quietly judging parents with audibly shitty kids) so why be a no fun Nancy and ruin my chillaxing?
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.

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.

Moving things along, it's time for our inflight service. Today I will be having a thimble of cranberry fructose water in the flimsiest plastic cup ever made. For snacks, my options are "THESE PRETZELS HAVE NEVER BEEN NEAR NUTS" pretzels and a mini bag of Doritos. Obviously I choose the Doritos. What they give me however is a bag made for Mini Me if Mini Me had a stapled stomach. This bag has less chips than Malkovich at the end of Rounders. The actual tally? 7 fucking Doritos in it. I counted.
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.

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.