sweatin the small stuff

It’s raining like a muthafucker, and since I’m not at home in my mack-daddy robe snug as a bug in a rug, I guess it’s time to sweat the small stuff.

It finally hit me with the clarity of a knee in the nuts that I don’t really dig flying. First off I hate packing. I never know what to fuckin pack so I pack everything I fuckin own. This time around I packed three pairs of pants, seven pairs of tidy-whities along with five shirts. All this crap for what amounted to a two-day stay. I’m worse then a chick when it come to shit like that, cause I’m always thinking about shit going south and me getting stuck somewhere without clean underwear. Either that or I suffering from SMPO. (severe mangina pookage outis) Then once I get on the fuckin plane I’m lookin at a seat so small that muthafuckin starving Ethiopians with the distended bellies and shit have trouble getting into em. Then once I pry my fat ass into the seat I can’t help but think about peeing, and the horror that is the bathroom on airliners. At least I don’t have to worry about the cocksuckin turbulence once in the bathroom cause I’m wedged in so fucking tight, moving is a goddamned forgone conclusion. There’s also that crash and burn thing that fucks with me. Cause as soon as the plane takes off I’m glued to the window looking out. And please excuse the fuck out’a me, but why are the windows on planes so fuckin small and placed so far down that a muthafucker has to almost double over to look out and shit? Goddamn, would it kill em to make the windows bigger and shit? It’s not like the fuckin plane is going into outer fuckin space and dealing with gravitational pull and crap. Anyway, I always watch takeoff cause I’m thinking, ok, we’re this high, so if the muthafucker falls it might not be so bad. Damn, we’re this high; I might be able to crawl away from this one. Fuck it, this is too high, I’m deader then shit if this muthafucker falls out’a the fuckin sky. But you know what really fucks with me? It’s that thing planes do as they bank to make a turn; cause it feels like the cocksucker has stopped all forward motion and is sliding backwards. It always reminds me of when I’m in a movie theater and they dim the lights. “Oh my god, everything’s getting dimmer and dimmer. Am I fuckin dying”? No……..it’s just muthafucker’s turning down the lights. You know? Just one of those odd feelings I don’t really dig.

gbeck@kc.rr.com says, "and the monkey flipped the switch"