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Air Rage: A Rant with Gusto

Just 10 hours earlier I was sitting in Bogota, Colombia eating dinner with a friend from Mexico.

“Open the borders and let anyone who wants come on in,” I said, because, you know, I love people and I’m a fanfuckingtastic host.

“Not the undesirable criminals,” my Mexican friend said.

“Okay. No thugs.”

“And these oeople who senf their 7-year-olds all alone from Guatemala to sneak across the border… They are such stupid assholes,” he continued.

“Sure. Deal. No thugs. No stupid assholes.”

But then my mood changed by the time I got on the plane.

There were four people on the flight with dreadlocks.

If I ran Homeland Security we would not let those fuckers in. We especially would not have let the large ogre lady with tatts from her chin on down the rest of her body into the US.

I have nothing against tatts. Just really stupid ones.

Besides the collection of dream catchers on her neck, she had her muffin top tattooed with what might have been stars or hearts or leopard prints. It was hard to tell because they jiggled around so much.

Not only did this fine specimen try to bring aboard 5 carryon items, but crowning her 6 foot 3 inch frame was a huge mass of dreadlocks that were of the “Crystal Gayle” hair length.

She sat in front of me in the plane and proceeded to sweep her hair over the back of her seat.

I shit you not, one of those funk-tastic coils of filth missed my mouth by mere inches.

“Hey!” I said while politely shoving the back of her seat with my foot. “Move your damn hair.”

She collected her rotting garbage back into her personal space and then mumbled to her girlfriend about “the asshole in the tie” behind her.

When we finally landed and she got up to collect her 5 bags of shit, I decided to take a picture of this foul foreigner.

Of course…

My flash went off.

“Did you just take my picture?”

Normally I lie my ass off in these situations in order to spare someone’s feelings. But she just rubbed me the wrong way.

“Yes, I did.”

“What? You think I’m a freak or something? You gonna post my picture on Facebook so your friends can make fun of me?”

“I was thinking Instagram would be better.”

“Unreal. You are unreal, man.”

“Wait a minute. It’s not like you are deformed or having an off day. You put a lot of time and effort into looking like this. It’s not my fault you look absurd.”

So she sauntered off.

The whole point of this is…

I can’t remember…

Something about America being free and awesome but that doesn’t mean you can try to slap me in the face with your dreadlocks. And muffin tops shouldn’t be tattooed. And, oh yah, this:

The Houston Customs guys let Canadians use the express lanes for US citizens. That’s because we love Canada.

Dreadlocks thing was directed to the ebola holding tank.

About Suburban War Lord

Suburban War Lord

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