I love Intercourse

I still don't completely understand the Harrisburg airport. Ok, I don't understand it at all.

Here I am sitting in the same massage chair that ended my first ever blog posting at MDT...Harrisburg International Airport. If this is an international airport, then I'm a gospel singing black woman. This place has three terminals and 18 gates. That's 6 gates per terminal for you math geniuses. I only ever see one gate open at a time. ...and it's always the same people/workers.


So I've come to a conclusion. It's a front. The entire airport is a front. A front for what? I'm not sure. It either has something to do with drugs...or Hershey's chocolate. ...which, in my book may very well be one in the same.

Constipation can't be fun. Judging by the look on his face, the guy who just passed by me is most definitely stopped up. I hope he isn't on my flight. It's bad enough having to sit across from the bathroom...which I believe I am. This man's moment of relief could mark my death.

If you're visiting the United States from a different country, don't "do your best" to dress like us. It makes me uncomforable just looking at you...your mother wouldn't approve anyway. The Michael Jackson jacket from the 80's, for example, has been left in the 80's. Feel free to do the moonwalk through security, though...I'd love to see the look on their faces!

Patricia Swanson was just paged. Here is how it sounded... "Patricia Swanson could you come to the information booth for a message?" I think they should have PA response stations for travelers to respond to pages if they're going to be worded that way. "Information desk, I can't make it right now because I'm in the middle of a sandwich at the Capital Cafe. Please deliever your message there."

There is such a thing as "too" tan. I don't think I really need to say anything else about that.

Why do some people over-adjust in the quest for perfect posture? You know the people...the shoulders are thrown back past their heels ...chest is WAY out. There isn't a posture award...plus, you wouldn't get it. "I'd like to thank my parents...friends...family...fans and the academy for making this possible. I never thought I could stand this straight..."

Joop DeJong was just paged. The paging announcer used a French accent for the name. Welcome to Pennsylvania.

Does France add any value at all to the world? Wine? There is better. Food?...if you like a thimble of horse shit. Paris? Landfill. Language? Sounds like they are congested and have a mouth full of marbles.

It's about time to board. Maybe I can stop in the one gift shop they have here and buy one of their "I love Intercourse" t-shirts.