Skid Marks for the Season

• Flew the other day on a 45 minute flight at about 7:00 A.M. Know what they gave me to eat? Party Mix. On the return flight, just yesterday, at about 3:00 P.M., know what they had to drink? Water or O.J. No coffee. I can see that that airline is in tune with humanity. Those fuckers.
• Those in-flight magazines? They must be the most boring magazines in the world.
• Airline pilots crack me up with their hyper-casual sounding voices on the loud speaker. They speak about all this stuff, flight information, take off and landing times, nearing land marks, the weather, as if they were an auto mechanic discussing snow tire options. As doctors have bad handwriting, airline pilots have these voices. It's like a law.
• Speaking of airline pilots talking about the weather, what's up with that? It seems like they talk about it a lot, er, I mean, they kind of go on and on and on... about it. Just fly the damn plane and concentrate on your landing, don't talk weather to me. I realize you have to know a lot about the weather, but all I care about is landing safely. I can look out the window to see the weather.
• My GF likes to cook, thank Goodness. It's funny, but when she does up a Prime Rib, she doesn't speak in terms of minutes or hours, she speaks in terms of degrees. "Hey, Babe, when's dinner, I'm starved?" I'll ask. "Oh, not for another 44 degrees or so, but you can do me a favor and go to the garage and grab another bottle of red, please." "OK," I'll answer, "how about in another 20 degrees or so?"
• Watching about capital punishment on 60-Minutes with my buddy, he asked me the other day, "Do you have to be a doctor to do that?" "Yeah, I guess so, if it's lethal injection. I also suppose you'd have to be an electrician to pull the switch on the electric chair, too," I said. This got me to thinking. If the executioner were a plumber, the method of death ought to be drowning. I wonder. What would your profession have to be if the method of death were, say, mechanical separation? Helicopter pilot!
• You know, eating a nice, thick, juicy, medium-rare slab of Prime Rib is a wonderfully joyous experience. It really involves many of my senses, certainly taste and smell, but others, too, like touch and sound. This got me to thinking: I suppose that, in a few ways, it is not unlike eating pussy!
• I still love my cigars! That evening (previous post) when me and my buddy had pizza and cigars? Well, those cigars were purrrty damn enjoyable. They tasted good and they smelled even better. The smoke was thick and enveloping. Again, that's a kind of enjoyment that stimulates all the senses. I would take a big puff, let the smoke roll around inside my mouth, and let it leak out in a thick stream. As the last of it exited my mouth, I would put the body of the cigar next to my nostrils and take a whiff... That, mixed with the thick cloud of smoke, smelled so good. This got me to thinking, too: It's a lot like eating pussy!
• Incidently, to answer the question, "How was the pizza that night," the answer is it was some of the best I've ever had... It was remarkable.