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For those of you looking for something on the more sophisticated side you have my apologies. This blog unfortunately mirrors the author (yours truly.) Some of the humor is not for everyone but I liked it and it's my blog so there! My patrons sometimes ask me where I come up with some of this stuff. I am glad to tell them my mind is a lot like Canada. It is sometimes a bit cold, there are a few dark corners, some of it down right confusing and even a bit dirty but there is also a lot of neat stuff up there. So I hope you all enjoy this blog! ... Cheers!

Friday, August 28, 2015


Unless you are traveling with friends and family, the actual act of getting to your destination is a lonely venture. If you are doing it with friends and family then it's more of a pain in the ass. Take it from a guy with 3 kids. Guaranteed when on a long trip one of your beautiful cherubs will inevitably ask you less than an hour into the trip "are we there yet?" All batteries on portable electronics will be near death at the same time and every 20 minutes someone will have to pee or dying of thirst. This particular trip however I was traveling alone. I was headed to North Carolina to see one of my best friends and brother from another mother, Shawn and his lovely wife Britney.

I am sitting in Baltimore, Maryland on a 3 hour layover. The aforementioned loneliness has turned to observations. Look around the next time you are in an airport. Now look closer at the people traveling alone. Watch as they do their best to create their own little world made of cell phones, laptop computers and neck pillows. Their carry-on bags act as foot rests, back supports and portable desks. Also around any wall outlet you are sure to find someone's mobile office. I don't know what it is however  

I started off this trip with a hour and a half drive after being up till 3 working behind the bar then the minute I got into bed for a whopping 4 hours of sleep seeing as I still needed to be up early to pack. Of course I hadn't packed a stitch yet I had plenty of time, right? At approximately 3:15 in the morning my phone lights up with a text from my middle daughter asking me to come get her from a sleep over. She is tired, scared and doesn't want to be there anymore. God, if you are testing me I think you should remember I am only a C student at best and never did test well...

I subsequently missed my original flight of 8:45am due to thinking it wasn't till 11:30am. The people at the Southwest counter after having a good chuckle at my expense and the "Ticket Bitch" making the comment "you didn't know what time your flight was? That was dumb." It stung a little but she was right. They where eventually able to get me on another flight. Now instead of landing in Raleigh/ Durham, NC at 4:30pm I'm looking at 9:30pm. This has already caused a bit of a hiccup in my pre-planned getting drunk schedule. Turns out the airlines will not allow you to be drunk and belligerent in the air. Something about mooning other planes on the tarmac I am informed is a no-no.

So here I am the weary traveler, tired of small talk with strangers and airport food. I can not wait to reach my destination! However like I said before, already it has been a long strange trip full of thoughts and observations. Of course I must share them with all of you. Here are a few in no particular order:

+ Turns out the "friendly skies" aren't so friendly anymore. My palms where swabbed not once but twice by a magic wand that can detect foreign fluids. Thank goodness I took a shower after my "one for the road" internet porn session. (Side note: my favorite is not a lot of ads, they never re-route you to another website and completely free. However I am looking for another suggestion for internet porn. I think I maybe nearing the end of their catalog... Ahem, I digress.) while on the topic, why do they still make porn if you can get it all for free on the internet? They just all must be really committed to their art. 
I thought I was careful enough to remove anything unnecessary from my carry on bag turns out I forgot a wine bottle opener with a small foil blade. This brought about the need for more fun and frolic time with the local TSA agents. I actually thanked them after a near thorough disrobing and strip search.
Standing in the inspection line is a bit unnerving. It makes even the straightest of arrows start to wonder if there are any warrants out for their arrest or they just happen to have C-4 somehow stuck to their shoe. I found myself actually trying to dodge the glare of the pacing agents.

+While standing in line for the cavity search after taking off my shoes I couldn't help but look at everyone else's feet. No, I don't have a foot fetish of any kind. However looking around you can't help but notice things like the guy that is wearing a $3,000. suite and $1,000 shoes but socks with huge holes in them. The woman with jacked up hammer toes and a homemade pedicure all while wearing a pair of pumps she painted the bottom with the same nail polish as her toes to look like Louis Vuitton's. Then the guy is wearing slip on loafers and smells like he has not washed his feet since Carter was in office and you know damn well he wore those shoes so he can slip them off during the preflight instructions and not putting those barking dogs away till landing.

+ The bathrooms are actually clean however the hand towels are dispensed by way of a motion detector that seems to be weakened. I find myself almost techno dancing in front of the dispenser in hopes of getting the paper to flow. I swear I heard it say "now throw your hands in the air and wave them like you just don't care!" As I flailed rhythmically before it.
Also ever since hearing about that Senator from Iowa that was caught trying to have sex with other dudes in airport restrooms I do everything in my power not to make eye contact and maintain my own personal bubble for fear something I do with my hands could be misconstrued as either a gang sign or a personal invite to "Booty-Land."

+ As I approach the plane through the gate I start to inspect the parts I can see on either side of the gate as if I know anything about aeronautical engineering. I saw a paint bubble and thought this was cause for concern. Isn't this how the Challenger Shuttle explosion started? Is that a missing rivet? I'm suddenly ready to lobby for higher wages to be paid to the ground crew.   

+ The person that closes the door to the plane is a girl named Alison from Wisconsin. My first
thought is my ex-wife is Alison and this is how karma has plotted its revenge. Turns out Satan has a wicked sense of humor. Well played Satan I did not see that one coming.
My next thought is shouldn't someone just a bit more qualified be shutting the door to this vacuumed sealed air bus? Just like when the doctor asked if I wanted to cut the cord when my children where born, I understand it probably isn't that tough to do, but it would just make me feel better about the whole operation. While giving preflight instructions she made a joke that alcohol will flow from the airbags while sipping only what I was hoping was  coffee. No really thank you Southwest for having a sense of humor at a time like this.

+ The bar I'm sitting at has a huge margarita list. Thank goodness because today a beer just won't cut the mustard. Turns out for an extra $3 they double the tequila. So I'm 2 margaritas in and I have 4 free drink vouchers. The second leg of this voyage just got interesting. 

+ The line at the Chipotle was around the corner. Jamba Juice however was 3 people. I opted for a protein shake. We all looked hungry. Subsequently I came to find out Germans really like Mexican fast food. Nothing funny about that really just a tid
-bit of information. Almost the entire line was German.
+ Southwest seats people in groups. Group C position 18 is the equivalent of getting a seat in the cargo section. It may have been more enjoyable. The only seats left are middle seats and mine where next to a rotund woman with very active sweat glands and a guy from Iran named Ali.
I fell asleep pretty quickly after being exhausted from the day before. It was a full flight and I woke myself up because I was snoring so loud. I am sure the plane loved me for that. When I woke up Ali was staring at me as though he was my dentist looking for cavities. As I wiped the drool from my mouth he was quick to point out that I must have been tired. Ya think?

+ When I first sat next to Ali I figured of course I would be the one to have to sit next to the only possible terrorist on the flight. I'm not saying all Muslims are terrorists. That is not what I am saying at all! Although let's be real all terrorists as of late do fit his description. Make matters worse the
second he sits down Ali buried his face in his hands and starts to mumble a prayer in Arabic. This begs me to ask the question. They say if you're a Muslim and you die a martyr you will be rewarded with 72 virgins upon your death. Why 72? First of all If these women died as virgins imagine what they must look like! Don't get me confused I am certain they all have lovely personalities however I am almost positive that if you look close enough you can also see where the 12 foot pole was poking them for the better part of their lives. Also I don't know about you but I tend to date women that already know what they are doing. Even when I was younger I dated older women. Older women know exactly what to do. No coaching them needed. They not only do the freaky shit I like but they also make you a sandwich and get you a cold drink after. The last thing I want to be doing is 72 private lessons on how to take a dick. On the other hand is this more of a group orgy setting? mean there are nights where I might be able to handle 2 or 3 but after a solid couple of hours I need a few hour nap. I am only one man! Finally why the hell do they have such a surplus of virgins?
If I see anything even resembling a bomb I am using the large sweaty woman to my right. She already mentioned she is single with no kids and she has 2 cats. I would be doing her a favor by using her as a human shield. She is one cute kitten away from being the crazy cat lady. Also at this point I am so tired that if Ali does have anti-American sentiments I am saying go ahead and do your worst.
However it turns out Ali is a nice guy that lives in Baltimore now after successfully online dating and finding his wife to be in NYC. He's actually quite the chatty Cathy.

+ Just because you don't speak English doesn't mean you should shout into your cell phone in your native tongue in the airport terminal!

+ The plane smells like Fritos and dirty feet. The air valve overhead is set to "wind tunnel" and the large woman next to me doesn't like to share the arm rest. Turns out she is tuning 45 and all her friends are married but her and they are all headed to Vegas for a "wild girls weekend." I was a believer till she took out her knitting. 
Ali on the other hand is praying out loud in Arabic. How the hell did this guy get through TSA??!!

+ I wonder if the new body scans show them everything. The TSA agent on the other side just winked at me. I winked back purely because I didn't want to pull out the finger guns for fear of a rubber glove strip search in the back room. After that brief encounter that I thought nothing of at the time , I now feel dirty and a bit violated. On the flip side He winked and didn't giggle. So maybe all's well that ends well.

+ Everyone waiting for a flight that has a laptop looks very professional and busy, like captains of industry. I on the other hand have opted to watch the movie Joe Dirt 2.  

+ On the way home I was lucky enough to get a isle seat. At 6'3" and 230 lbs. A isle seat is a welcome site. That is until a guy sat next to me with an enormous laptop computer. It was so big the flight attendant scolded him for having this behemoth on the tray table and he was told to power it down and put it away. This computer was jammed into my calves for the rest of the flight.

+ I finally touch down at home and now have the honor of playing "find your car in the long term parking lot." I have a stripped down Jeep wrangler. No key fob here to make my ride chirp and tell me "hey I'm over here dumbass!"
This reminds me of a interesting fact about salmon and how after they are hatched they swim out to sea through various rivers, lakes and streams. Then when they are ready to spawn they swim all the way back through those same rivers, lakes and streams to the exact location they where born in to spawn and then eventually die. A fish with a brain the size of a peanut! And to think I can't ever seem to find my car in a mall parking lot without a cell phone app!
This game of find my car is followed by a rousing game of "Find the parking ticket or get charged double." I fumble all over my car while saying out loud "someone must have stolen my ticket!" Yeah there is a thief out there just waiting to break into my late model soft top Wrangler making it look completely seamless. Not a single other thing was touched but they just had to have my parking ticket! I finally find it in a place "I would never lose it."

That's all I have for now. It's 11pm and I still have an hour and a half ride back to Maine. Why is it I love to travel again?