Grizzly Adams Wears Pink Panties

A strapping man of about 6’3” and 240lbs…hairy as a beast…is standing across from me. …has to be Grizzly Adams. And he is carrying a pink suitcase with Dora the Explorer on it. I can’t help but wonder if he is sporting the matching panties.


Low rise jeans should be banned from food courts. Sure, she can get away with it, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that my eyes gravitate to her butt crack after I take a bite of my chicken sandwich.

Make that ‘chikin’ sandwich. If the spelling doesn’t give it away, then you may have never truly enjoyed a sandwich from Chick-fil-A. They have waffle fries….that should be enough to make anyone happy. But for me, it goes even deeper. ….Sweet Tea. Yes, I’m talking about iced tea with at least three pounds of sugar added to a 20oz serving. Imagine me hopped up on sugar. I should spare the world, but I’m not about to.

Regardless, I am considering taking the straw from my sweet tea and sticking it in her butt crack. It would be pretty funny... to me, at least.

So I’m in Phili again. My flight is supposed to leave at 6:47pm. In Philadelphia, that translates to 11:15pm. No problem. Even with the invasion of the butt crack, I’m enjoying myself.

Just a thought…If you’re walking through the airport, dragging a roll along suitcase and happen to find yourself sweating or out of breath…then you need to get your ass to the gym. Just serious.

A man from the TSA stopped me today. He thought he saw some kind of cream or gel in my bag. When he couldn’t find any, he asked me in a very direct voice… “Where’s the gel?” As if there’s this secret compartment in my duffle bag where I’m going to hide my gel. Hey genius…if you can’t find the gel, chances are it isn’t there. For the record, I’m not a 23 year old Muslim extremist. Yes, I believe in profiling.

Guys…news flash…when a t-shirt no longer fits you in the shoulders and it shows your stomach when you raise your arms, it’s time to throw it out…it’s too small and you look like a fool. Unless you’re gay or otherwise fashionable…

Is a flight’s arrival really deserving of a round of applause? Come on…it’s not like we’re waiting for the Space Shuttle.


The flight is five minutes from boarding…and there is practically no way to the gate. A weird, jockeying for the closest position to the gate takes place as the boarding time nears. Perhaps there is a special reception for the first 10 people on board…or a prize. Like the first thousand people at a baseball game. Maybe the prize is gel. Now it’s all making sense.

And now the lady across from me is talking to herself. The goal is for me to hear her, comment on the fact that she’s been here since 2pm and feel her pain. Hmmph…kinda sounds familiar, I guess. Maybe I’ll suggest that she starts a blog.