It's generally accepted that airline food is incontrovertibly the processed mixed of sawdust, horse fluids and raw protein harvested from the livers of starving Korean orphans. The people who make it have a souls blacker than your aunt Anna's mole (you know, the one on her left check that you could swear is actually sentient), and their idea of fun is to burn down veterinary clinics wearing coats made from baby panda skins, all the while listening to 40 hour long iTunes playlist alternating between Coldplay and LMFAO. These people don't mess around, they'll eat your happiness straight out of your chest as an appetizer for their meal of koalas and the essence of lost souls. Having said that, it was completely understandable, when my dear friend, who I not only shared a room with for the entirety of this trip, but also am sitting next to on the plane, comes down with a severe case of food poisoning and proceeds to spend the next 6 hours with a severe condition involving the removal of all digested materials in the most expedient of manners through whatever orifice is immediately available. Personally, I can't say I feel anything but sorry for him, and as I'm wiping bits of.....ahem.....removed materials....from my tray table, I wish nothing but a speedy recovery for him, 'cause we're over 30,000 feet in the air, and I can only imagine how hellish it must be.
We're gonna touch down in JFK pretty soon, and I can only pray he feels better by then, 'cause lord knows going through customs would suck.
Also, watch the movie Drive, right now. It will change your life.....
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