Hi,
Today marks the fourteenth consecutive flight I have taken with a cigarette lighter. While I'm generally more than happy to accept credit for things I haven't really accomplished, I must, this once, confess to no special skill set. But after squeezing in a few thoughts between the loudest screams you ever heard on an airplane coming from what I'm sure is normally a well enough behaved 3 year old girl, I've got two theories as to why no one ever finds the flame making device in my back pack.
1. Gross ineptitude.
2. Blatant racism.
Or maybe...
3. Classism.
That's three theories, if you're either...
A. Counting
Or ...
B. Nasty
Anyway, when I'm on the sidewalk having a puff just moments after I step off this god forsaken scream infested tube, I'll be thanking the gods not only for being for being born Caucasian, but also that I could afford to buy a new sport coat from h and m for my little getaway from not really having to work for the last 6 months. Oh yeah, and also that in airports across the country, the people in charge of my safety are doing about as good of a job as the woman next to me is doing to get her daughter to shut the dkfkdkksjdjdajhgjdfkfm up!
Mwah!
M
Sent from my imBasilePhone
Friday, July 23, 2010
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