No Flybabies Allowed

Last night I landed at Midway Airport after spending four 100% fun and 100% non-dietary days with my brother Lee in Vero Beach, Florida. He’s studying for his commercial pilot’s license, and he and his roommate and their many pilot friends also clock in a certain amount of time watching reruns of The Office on DVR and playing flight simulator games via computer. I could probably write the script for the movie Superbad 2 based on my notes from the trip, but since that’s going to take a few days to put together I’ll just start you off with some conversational snippets.

On chicks:
1. Dude, look at that hot chick over there smoking.
2. Check out that hot tall chick. She’s big-boned. I like it. I like girls with, like, size 13 feet.
3. Hey, why do you think there are no hot goth chicks?

On food:
1. Why would anyone eat snails? Sick.
2. Do you really think gummy worms are bad for you? No way.
3. I can’t wait until 49-cent hamburger day at McDonald’s.

On bodily functions:
1. I’ll be back. Gotta adjust the weight and balance.
2. I’ve never seen so much s*!% come out of that dog’s a$%.
3. There’s nothing better than a good puke.

I also picked up a new hobby when we went to Chili’s for 2-for-1 drinks one afternoon during a thunderstorm. Basically what you do is turn on the TV to the hunting and fishing channel and activate the closed captions. Hunting and fishing are so much more riveting on mute:

Fisherman 1: Look what we got here.
Fisherman 2: That’s a fish.
F1: That’s a big one.
F2: Yep. A big one.
FI: He’s puttin’ on a show.
F2: Look down there.
F1: Those are some big rocks.
F2: Ha ha ha.
FI: You can really see ‘em.
F2: Mmm hmm.
F1: Here he is.
F2: You gonna keep him?
F1: Yep. Gotta prove to my wife I’ve been fishin’.
F2: Ha ha ha.

P.S. Someone just sent me a Breast Cancer Awareness hula-hoop and it appears to be regulation size. I cannot WAIT to go home and see if I can still hula-hoop indefinitely.