sometimes flying can be so nice.
i’m flying from chicago to nyc, and the flight is only about 1/3rd full and it’s very peaceful and quiet and i left chicago while it was dark and snowing, and now we’re above the clouds and it’s beautiful and sunny. so as i said, sometimes flying can be really nice.
i might even move to the other side of the aisle so that i can sit in the sun.
yes, when i’m done writing this update i think that i’ll do just that.
and now i think that the pilot is having some sort of psychological breakdown cos we just seem to be climbing and climbing…
maybe he wants to see the curve of the earth, and apparently you need to be up around 50,000 feet to see the earths curvature.
oh well. if the pilot loses his mind and takes us up and up at least we’ll have a cool view as the plane starts to fall apart.
would it fall apart? how high could you fly a 737 until bad stuff started to happen? and what would happen? maybe the pilot has chosen today as the day to find out.
ok. big news.
i’ve moved to the other side of the aisle.
cos this is the sunny side of the plane and at some point the sun will set while we’re flying and i want to look out of the window and watch the sun set. watching the sun set from 35,000 (or 75,000 feet if the pilot carries out his diabolical scheme) is one of my favourite things. especially on a fairly empty flight. the clouds are really pretty today, like what’s his name, you know, mumbledy-joe what’s his name, oh, maxfield parrish. that’s his name. or titian. they both painted nice clouds. if you’re ever out walking around and the clouds look really majestic you could say that they look ‘titianesque’ and no one will have a fucking clue as to what you’re talking about. trust me, i say this from my own pretentious experience.
do i swear too much? i just feel that i have to provide a little rough-n-tumble balance to sentences like ‘the clouds are really pretty’.
if i write that the clouds are pretty then you can fairly safely bet that at some point i’ll start writing about crack and hookers. balance.
zen and the art of including the word ‘fuck’ in ones updates.
now i’m going to go and peruse a magazine about golf courses and spas.
but trust me, i’ll be thinking about crack and hookers while looking at pictures of people getting massages in hawaii.
golf. is golf fun? i was a caddy when i was little (12 years old), but i’ve never played golf. people seem to get quite obsessive about it, so i should probably steer clear of golf.
apparently alice cooper and iggy pop are golf enthusiasts.
go figure.
have a nice weekend.
-moby