Enjoy Some Eye Candy While I’m In Hell
Okay so I had a crap day, driving for 4 1/2 hours at 25 mph with white knuckles over black ice to the airport in Portland only to sit on the tarmak for 2 hours while cheapo Continental Airlines found some non-union crew to de-ice the plane, only to get into Houston too late to catch a connecting flight to my mom’s in Tulsa, and right as we’re about to land they tell me “Welcome to George Bush Intercontinental Airport.” George Bush? It used to be just plain “Intercontinental Airport.” When did they change the name? Like, 15 minutes beforehand, just to fuck with me?
So after I nearly take a swing at this guy who says that they aren’t responsible for delays due to weather, and I have to haul the pilot off the plane & make him explain to the officious bastard that lack of adequate equipment is not in anybody’s definition of force majeure they put us up in this Holiday Inn with no luggage so I have to turn the heat up to like 90 degrees ‘cos I’m sure not gonna sleep in my clothes and then wear them tomorrow.
George Bush Airport. I know it’s not all about me, but sometimes I think that guy must stay up nights just looking for ways to screw with me, ‘cos he really couldn’t do a better job if he tried.
Your guest blogger for today will be Nancy, who went to Mills with me and is much smarter than me. I will be flying in the morning and will hopefully get over my paranoid rage at our fearless fuhrer long enough to pull together something coherent by tomorrow night.
(BTW, the above is from a pretty cool collection of Soviet posters, from the Tsarist period to 1998. This is for anyone who would like to dismiss me as a Communist — you’re wrong, but have a ball. Thanks to we-make-money-not-art.com, a site by this wacky Belgian chick that always has great weird stuff.)