it's a pleasure pissing you off sir

so here's the long promised blog update ... i've been busy - so sue me :). most of you overworked gentlepeople out there may not know this, but doing nothing is quite hard!

let's start with the flight out of seattle. i took northwest via amsterdam and bombay. don't do it. it's a crappy flight. no in-flight entertainment console and they force you to watch a shah rukh movie. the only form of entertainment is the concentric rings at the bottom of the barf bag.

stewardess: what'll you have to drink sir?
me: some of that awful tasting orange juice please
stewardess: we're out of orange juice
me: how about some tomato?
stewardess: we're out of all juices. i never had any juices on the cart. but i like making you ask for it. so what'll you have?
me: something terribly alcoholic and a pot of marijuana. the booze will keep my eyes unfocussed so i don't have to see you and the pot will numb the shooting pains in my shoulder as you slam into it each time you walk by
stewardess: here's your water sir. would you like something else?
me: throw yourself off the plane
stewardess: it's a pleasure pissing you off sir

and then it's schipol in a few hours.

me: a coffee please
woman_at_the_counter: 800 gazillion euros please
me: i just want a cup of coffee, not the machine itself
woman_at_the_counter: oh, then that'll be 300.45 gazillion euros. will there be anything else?
me: throw yourself under a running plane
woman_at_the_counter: it's a pleasure pissing you off sir

and many, many, many hours later - bombay airport.

customs_guy_with_moustache: so you have many things to declare no? you are having many electronics no?
me: no. nothing much in there
customs_guy_with_moustache: so you are having lots of gold no?
me: i'm coming in from seattle, so no gold and it's been a long flight. check the bags if you want to
customs_guy_with_moustache: i don't need to open bags, i can smell these things
me: that's just me, not the bags
customs_guy_with_moustache: so you are bringing drugs into the country?
me: do you seriously think i'll tell you if i was?
customs_guy_with_moustache: so are you here on vacation? having a good time?
me: not really, and i really like standing here talking to you
customs_guy_with_moustache: it's a pleasure pissing you off sir

and then many more hours later, i'm home. my dog's name is max. he's a golden retriever, not so gold anymore. he's about 13, slow as a dodo and a bit hard of hearing now.

me: hey there max, hey buddy, what's been happening?
max_the_dog: {who? where? i can hear a voice, i can't tell where it's coming from. these voices in my head ... i think i need a shrink but these people are too cheap for that}
me: cootchi, cootchie, cootchie ...
max_the_dog: {oh no, that cootchie-cooeing retard is back again. i thought he was gone for good. now i'll have to do all those stupid things he makes me do like fetch the paper, look cute when he takes me to the beach to chat women up using me as the bait. i think i'll just pretend to not hear him. i'll stare at this pot instead. nice pot}
me: i think he's a little hard of hearing now. he used to be so alert before
max_the_dog: {look yoyo, you don't feed me any more. these other humans in the house do. so go stare at your navel or something}
me: i guess he'll remember me later. i've brought him some shampoo
max_the_dog: {then drink it yourself bozo. i'll pretend not to hear when you yell at me to go to the backyard for a bath. so piss off now. this really is a nice pot. i wonder if she's single}

and the days go on. more in a couple of hours.