Wednesday, June 22, 2005


On this flight from Houston to Chicago, they’re showing a movie on these dinky-ass screens that fold down from the overhead screen every three rows. There is one right over my head, which means I am as far from a watchable screen as it is possible to be. Watching the damn thing is like looking at a half-dollar held at arm’s length, so I have declined to pay the extortionate fee of five US dollars for a set of headphones.

Plus, the movie they’re showing is Robots. Watching this piss-poor excuse for a flick – even without the soundtrack to grate on my nerves like a wood rasp – is enough to give me the Screaming Meemies. Could they possibly cram more Violently Moving-Around Shit in the frame?

My aching ass.

Really. I’m not just copping one of Acidman’s catchphrases. My ass aches from sitting in this airplane seat. As much as Ca-Ca-Nental has gotten their act together in recent years, they still haven’t figured out the fact that if you have crappy seat padding, your ass will inevitably begin to hurt. And people with aching asses get cranky...just ask Rob.

Ah, thank Gawd. That rattling, clanging Visual Train Wreck is over at last. Roll credits!

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