How to Turn an Airpot Hottie into a Bedroom Hottie

The airport teems with hotties. It may be the only respectable location outside the baseball stadium where well-put-together ladies congregate for no apparent reason. Here are some tips for bagging that special someone fate put next to you on the plane:

-At the check-in desk, scan for hotties. If there is one nearby, listen to where she is going. If you are going to the same place, say in a bemused way, "Hey! We're going to the same place!" Do this even if you are not going to the same place. This should yield a smile if not some sort of boob-flash.

-At security, offer to help a hottie get her bags off the conveyor belt. Do NOT say "Hey baby let me get your bags off." Rather, reach for the handle of her suitcase just as she is going for it. Your hands will touch, she will give a start, then your eyes will meet. Movies show this kind of thing happening between high-school lab partners all the time. If it can work for John Cusack, it can work for you (words to live by).

-If your hottie is flying first-class, make sure to upgrade your ashy ass out of coach. Like Trina, this lady is "high maintenance." Do not be deterred, though. Use the $20 you were going to spend on Playboy and Wendy's to buy yourself a scotch and her a champagne.

-When they pass out the airline meals, offer to finish whatever your hottie doesn't eat. What better way to bond than over a shared dinner?

-Make sure everyone on the plane knows you are a big shot. If the person in front of you leans back their seat, kick it repeatedly and yell "What The Hell Are You Doing?! Your Seat Is Right In My Fucking Face!!!!" (true story). Ladies do not go for wimps; they go for alpha males. Get em, tiger.

-Tell plenty of scary stories about planes crashing. When you encounter turbulence, simply put your arm around her shaking shoulders and tell her "Everything is okay." Go for a feel. If she calls you on it, you can blame the "slip" on the turbulence. You gotta know if them jubs is real.

-If there is someone of Mid-Eastern origin on the flight, attack them with a wine key and accuse them of terrorism (Remember United 93?). Even though the assailee is definitely innocent of your accusations, no one will question your motives; these are patriotic times, you sly dog you.

-After the plane has touched down safely, say, "Well, looks like this is goodbye." Then "accidentally" run into your hottie at the baggage claim, offering to share a cab to her home. This always works.

Any of these techniques can work on its own, but in combinations, these moves are guaranteed sack-fillers. Booyah.

Brief Study in Socio-Linguistics

A: So I heard Jimmy's going to lawschool, and -

B: When you say "heard," do you really mean "read on facebook"?

A: Man you knew that's what I meant, why'd you have to call me out like that?

Transcript of a Video Blog in Response to Jerry Falwell's Death

An internet video obituary for deceased religious figure Jerry Falwell surfaced sometime yesterday, but was quickly removed. Water and Vegetables provides a transcript of the video with consent of its creator, on condition that he remain anonymous (he appears below as "Vlogger").

[Vlogger is sitting in front of a Web cam at his desk]

Vlogger: Jerry Falwell died today.
I guess he didn't Feel Well [laughs].
Man, that guy was such a prick. He was always saying people were going to hell.
I bet you're in hell now Jerry Falwell.

[Vlogger stands up, begins beating a pinata with a photo of Falwell pasted onto it]

Vlogger: [In a singsong voice] You are so fat, you are now dead. Die Jerry Falwell die. You suck fatty.

[Pinata breaks]

Vlogger: Ohhh . . . YEAH!

[Vlogger returns to sit in front of his webcam]

[Eats candy]

Vlogger: Mmm this candy is so good . . .
Mmmm . . .
. . .
Moral ma-chocolatey!

So tasty and sweet.

[Vlogger Pauses and looks at candy]

[Vlogger looks back at beaten effigy of Jerry Falwell]

[Drops candy, wipes chocolate from mouth]

Vlogger: Jerry falwell died today.

. . .

I'm sorry.

Look Back and Laugh

I saw this shirt, albeit with white lettering on green cotton, in front of a Lakewood, WA tavern known as the Green Pup.

I laughed at first at a man so silly and frivolous. His sunglasses were tinted purple like Bono's, and his jeans were so tight as to constrict his movements to a penguin-like walk.

After he passed, though, I had a moment to reflect. His shirt bore an odd familiarity, and I thought I'd caught faint traces of a familiar scent as he passed by. "Red Jeans" by Gianni Versace. Portia! The lying minx had gotten her vixen together behind my back, and with a lowlife metrosexual to boot. My eyes welled up with tears. My mind raced. I felt my pulse reach the Target Heart Rate Zone for cardiovascular exercise. The cheating bitch!

I should have known trouble was coming the day she bought that curious shirt. But how could I have? Worn by her, it was a mere passing joke, punctuated by a painful reminder that its humor was a cheap crackerjack, a fleeting moment's novelty that would soon pass. "Go ahead and laugh / This is [merely] your girlfriend's shirt [and this joke will soon wear thin]." If only I'd known that such malice had been nurtured in Portia's heart. The very premeditation of the act made it the most sick. So I endeavored to hurt her in kind.

I'm Gonna Git You Sucka

Have you ever imagined a vampire movie where the vampire can't find anyone to prey on because he/she is worried about consuming the blood of questionable purity?

Movies, like, are like vampires, right? They don't exist. Or so you thought.

Discuss.

ACLU Gonzo Ad in NYT

The ACLU took out an ad on the Times' web site today, the basic conceit of which is that Habeas Corpus is a little cartoon dude who doesn't look too happy. The little guy's been kidnapped and you're looking at the side of a milk carton showing some basic info about his last known whereabouts. Here's a pic from the ACLU site (habeas.gif):



The incitement is to a letter-writing campaign to congress urging our -persons to get on that shit and start looking for Habeas Corpus. The cuteness doesn't stop there, though. The site also refers to Habeas Corpus as "Habeas," as though he were a little tike. On the playground they probably called him Habe for short or teased him occasionally by calling him "Habe-ASS." A quiet little green kid, a little troubled, but generally well-behaved and likeable. That is, before he was kidnapped and molested by some pervy old guy whose web cache, as it would later be shown, includes lots of Google Images searches for "Constitutional Rights Nude," and "Due Process Naked."

Find Habeas