Anyone who creates tension on a plane should be disposed of mid-flight. Give them a bag of pretzels and a seat bottom that acts as a flotation device and drop them over the Atlantic. I already have to pop three xanax to keep my palms dry and have devised a defense strategy if that shady dude in seat 5A gets up to go to the bathroom again. Oh nevermind, looks like he’s on a family vacation with his loving grandkids.
How did this lady afford a plane ticket? How is she contributing enough to society to earn a wage that allows her the liberties of vacationing? I write blogs that change the world and I still haven’t paid rent for February. Which means the crazy lady is beating me in this game of life. Grab me a bag of Rold Gold’s, I’m throwing myself out of this plane too.
Are we really not cool with Venezuela?