there is no use fighting it

there are things in life that you cannot help but to get excited about. first i think we all agree, that a hair comb is only exciting one day a year. that's right, picture day at school. they give out free combs and you are overjoyed to have this free comb. as a precursor to my constant words without action, i remember really thinking that with this free comb i will maintain my hair daily, perhaps hourly because i will keep it in my desk and never be without a comb. year after year though i would bend it, twist it, pull it, bop it, until it was no longer useful for creating a handsome part. i think i even once thought that i may fashion it into a shiv in case things got rough on the play ground with the proverbial 5th graders. 5th graders everywhere still think that they are bad ass.

i traveled recently to and from denver, co. i drove there and would have made a land speed record if it wasn't for hurricane conditions. i felt like Helen hunt and the least famous guy from Apollo 13. storm chasing..hood knows if no one else knows. this brings me to my next " no need in fighting it" point. you want storms to be bad. its true. you want destruction. you want to regret not buying batteries for the thirteen dead flashlights you have. you enjoy gathering candles and waiting til things get really nasty. i have even found myself hoping to be chased by a tornado. its sick i know but you feel it too. (i want some feedback on this)

ALCOHOL, CHEWING GUM, BOTTLE OF WATER, GINGER ALE
anyways, i flew back from denver. i had a lot of time in the denver airport and came to a strong conclusion. if you have a layover in an airport, you instinctively crave a beer. its like you rush to get to through the lines, checking bags, throwing away shampoo that wont fit in the Ziploc... then you find yourself at your gate for departure with 4 hours to burn. hurry up and wait. i always think, what if i leave and they announce that we are boarding early and i miss my flight. first off i entertain the thought of reading or writing. then i kill that thought and opt for a seat at the bar. i sometimes go months without having even one beer. put me in airport and i am like zach morris at a toga party. luckily for me though i am not getting behind the wheel of lisa turtles moms car... wow memory lane. its like 8 am and people are bellied up, " give me a gin and tonic hold the tonic add vodka.. make it a double. once i have sloshed down the alcohol, i panic about the bathroom situation. not the beer coursing through my bladder but the "big job" on a plane scare. i dont remember ever having done it but imagine it to be one of the most nerve racking humiliating events one can have. sealed cabin environment? are you kidding? so i make a stop at the bathroom as a precautionary measure. by the way, if you have reservations about public bathrooms, a study showed that the cleanest stall is the one closest to the entrance. people avoid it because either it seems like it would be the nastiest.. or because of the leg exposure that you get. by the way also, i will one day release the *taj ma"stall" list of great #2 rooms in the lower 48.
after that pit stop, i move to the vendor counter for a pack of gum. the first time i remember flying, my ears popped and i was miserable until this kind lady offered me a stick of juicy fruit.. that is my flight gum of choice if it can be had. i get a bottle of water because while traveling i usually eat very poorly. as if i ever dont eat poorly. i feel that a bottle of water begins the home healthier process.

once on the plane of course we get our peanuts, and of course i get ginger ale. i have ginger ale mostly for the novelty. i think airlines keep Canada Dry out of red figures. well airlines and grandmothers. well maybe canadians too. hell they probably do very well for themselves without my stereotypes. i am everywhere tonight. maybe thats because its 4 in the freaking morning and i am at work! Holiday Inn Express in Ruston, this is Tim, how can i be of assistance to you! 99.95.. oh thats too high? well go to the hojo and have roaches crawl up your nose while you sleep.. that was gross and my **noncents must end.

* my brother gave me that term for fine stalls

** in a heated text messaging debate i mispelled sense, sents, or cents.. and Patrick (aka Al Roker) called me out, stopping whatever momentum i had.

*** i really like when reference are cleared up with little shift 8's


gibb umm what day want!

night audit landscape extraordinaire.

shiz