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8-7-2002 - 2:59 p.m.

So, How was Italy?

The big question in my E-male box today is �How was Italy?

Did you have a wonderful time?

What did you eat?

What did you bring me?

Did you and ol� Doc Hawk pick up any hunky Italian men for a night of amore�?

Lessee�it was lovely and sunny.

Yes, for the most part.

Pasta and Seafood.

Depends on who you are.

No, they don�t bathe often enough to meet our standards.

What else do you want to know?

Getting there is half the fun? The journey is the reward? Whoever said this hasn�t flown since September 11, 2001. Getting there is a BITCH. You know what? The terrorists don�t have to do another damn thing to us. They can just hang out in their caves and laugh while we hop on one foot at the airport to get our freaking shoes checked. They got us standing in lines for hours like sheep to go through security, all the time whining and complaining. Men who haven�t even bought you a drink yet are groping your private parts in public. It�s a joyless experience. I want Star Trek Transporter technology NOW!

Now I must say that Kansas City has the most sensible, organized, user friendly airport in the world. And the dessert of KCI is that there is tons of Wizard of Oz stuff in the gift shops. Only trouble with KCI is that you can�t actually get anywhere from there since TWA went belly up. So we have to go to Chicago first, O�Hare, the world�s most clusterfucked airport. We are on an International flight, so the lines are even longer, the security guys even grabbier and the guns even bigger. Ray is just brown skinned and hawk nosed enough that he gets special treatment. Don�t let anybody tell you racial profiling ain�t happening at the airports. Friendly skies my ass!

Once we actually get ourselves on the plane, things improve. The flight is pleasantly uncrowded and there is room to stretch out. Our flight attendant, Seth, seems to be family and he�s amusing and charming. Champagne is offered. Ray doesn�t drink so I drink his too. Dinner is served. Since we are going flying to Rome, it�s Italian. Mystery meat covered in tomato sauce with rubbery cheese. If all the food in Italy is like this, I am going to come home 10 pounds lighter.

I find the Royals-Yankees game on the In-flight radio so I am happy as a pig in mud. Ray is reading 'The Smoke Jumpers' A Woody Allen movie is being shown. Nobody appears to be laughing, sorry Woody.

After the movie,the cabin lights go out and we are put to bed like sleepy toddlers. The plane is so empty that we are both able to move to the middle rows and get horizontal, but not together. This ain't the mile high club.

More later



Go Back
Previously in Justinland: Our Last Five Entries

Wagons Ho! - 4-23-2004

This Old Barn - 4-17-2004

Death and Taxes - 4-15-2004

MMQB:Leftover Peeps - 4-12-2004

The Alamo; The Movie not the Shrine - 4-10-2004


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