of america and the flight
right first chance ive gotten since i got here to update.
the flight - UA from Heathrow to Chicago - well that one was ok actually, quiet though, and long, we got in an hour early as well, but cramped up in that seat with nothing to do (plane movies suck, plus im partially sighted i couldnt even see the screen) but on landing in Chicago the fun started, i needed to get off the plane i was left till last and, as always i was thrown into a wheel chair because 'if you dont get in the chair sir your going home' i didnt have much luck with 'but i drive! i ride motorcycles! i work in IT - my eye sights not a problem!' so in the chair i went, THEN when i went to get my bag from the carrosel - my bag had been opened, lock removed and personal effects taken - greta, great start there, i bust ot of the wheel chair with a 'and you hsall now feel my rath' well, i would of done if they hadnt strapped me in tighter then a virgins .... anyway.
chicago - COLD -5 infact, snow, ice and me in a pair of cut off shorts, trainers and a combichrist hoodie, great.
the next flight was chicago to Denver - well, what can i say? 777 (as i was on from Heathrow) huge ass plane, reversing, im in the far back of it, and suddenly BANG WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRR BANG BANG BANG - the pilot had slammed the anchors on HARD - causing a fear i thought couldnt be topped how wrong i was... so the flight was actually quite rough, loads of turbulance due to snow and storm clouds, on landing the pilot came in to fast, hit the runway angled, almost rolled the plane straigtening up (right wing touched the floor, there was sparks, big sparks, and lots of screaming about haunting the pilots family) plane bounced down againa nd slapped arround the runway like a fucking live fresh fish. fun.
Denver Airport is nice, bit surreal in places, but i got a ciggerette after a whopping 14 hours flight and 2 hours lay over, and then........
flight - Denver to Boise, on the smallist plane ever, pilot passing round biscuits small, eddie izzard comedy gold small, so there me, a woman who has paid 38 thousnad euros for a puppy who is taking great delight in my fear of flying, and showing me the recipt for her puppy and the blood line it has , and a bunch of millitery personell - take off and landing was fine, if a little steap due to size of plane, then on landing and getting off i hiked across the airport to carosell's to get my baggage went for a smoke first and then, got my bag and stepped outside to the monte carlo and the person, picking me up.
its been insane so far but im saving all that for a huge ass post later.
but now coffee and a newport before my ass heads out there again, into the cold snow covered roads, feeling the grip of tarmac under me, safe in a knowledge that - if i die. im dieing in the country of road trips, of american fucking pie, of coffee and wendys, of jack in the box and mexican food, of newports and desani water of mountain dew and sour worms.
goddam i love the hidden america, i love the back waters, i love it all.
freedom, ive missed you.
oh and edit: some lyrics i love right now, perfect trip[ music, perfect. thank you mc chris.
I met you on friendster, your name was all weird, I feared the worst but the more I learned it all became clear, you were a female peer, just a few years younger than I, and you wrote the longest letters, the very best size. You live in London, used slang like prat, you were dating the gym one akin to tight abs, I’d spend the days half, trying to make you laugh, you would and write back give me some more of that, well after week. i knew i was hooked, you'd blush at each key stroke xo, without' getting one look at the other side guy his picks might be fake, this type of shit happens every day. I’m no rock star, a clock watching drone, who's breath stinks of liquor, all stoned like lawn gnomes. No girlfriend, no hook ups, just love lorn and lucked up, no friend to just vent on, one who'll, say all bets off. concert was cancelled, you answered my email. Turns out your bummed out didn’t want to give details. A mate had od'd, I could feel your heart beat. i miss you never met you, xomc.
Boys don't cry they prefer bawlin not shot callin. Teardrops fallin, I’m jonesin harder than gollum, please god say that's London callin.
why ya gotta be so far away, why do plane tickets gotta cost an arm and a leg, maybe i should save a couple dollars a day, so without delay, i can look at your face, smell your hair, rest my hand on your neck, never mind neckin, you know that comes next I’ll buy you a dress at that place owned by dodi fayed. give ya head every night before bed. but you might dig mc, might think me to brash or condescending, a sad finish. Without taking a first step, hard to avoid saying something that I will regret but I bet that we would hit off great I could come to you, or you could come to the states, get you a job at mtv, whatever you need, I’m a slave 4 u like Britney was to jt romance is a cruel trick. playin me like school kids, don't know if I should do this, if i'm stupid or just foolish, can't hut peruse this, despite you being half a world from me, what I wouldn't give to sit and sip a cup of tea, while you nibbled on a crumpet, I’d love it indeed, sincerely yours,
Boys don't cry they prefer bawlin not shot callin. Teardrops fallin, I’m jonesin harder than gollum, please god say that's London callin.
the flight - UA from Heathrow to Chicago - well that one was ok actually, quiet though, and long, we got in an hour early as well, but cramped up in that seat with nothing to do (plane movies suck, plus im partially sighted i couldnt even see the screen) but on landing in Chicago the fun started, i needed to get off the plane i was left till last and, as always i was thrown into a wheel chair because 'if you dont get in the chair sir your going home' i didnt have much luck with 'but i drive! i ride motorcycles! i work in IT - my eye sights not a problem!' so in the chair i went, THEN when i went to get my bag from the carrosel - my bag had been opened, lock removed and personal effects taken - greta, great start there, i bust ot of the wheel chair with a 'and you hsall now feel my rath' well, i would of done if they hadnt strapped me in tighter then a virgins .... anyway.
chicago - COLD -5 infact, snow, ice and me in a pair of cut off shorts, trainers and a combichrist hoodie, great.
the next flight was chicago to Denver - well, what can i say? 777 (as i was on from Heathrow) huge ass plane, reversing, im in the far back of it, and suddenly BANG WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRR BANG BANG BANG - the pilot had slammed the anchors on HARD - causing a fear i thought couldnt be topped how wrong i was... so the flight was actually quite rough, loads of turbulance due to snow and storm clouds, on landing the pilot came in to fast, hit the runway angled, almost rolled the plane straigtening up (right wing touched the floor, there was sparks, big sparks, and lots of screaming about haunting the pilots family) plane bounced down againa nd slapped arround the runway like a fucking live fresh fish. fun.
Denver Airport is nice, bit surreal in places, but i got a ciggerette after a whopping 14 hours flight and 2 hours lay over, and then........
flight - Denver to Boise, on the smallist plane ever, pilot passing round biscuits small, eddie izzard comedy gold small, so there me, a woman who has paid 38 thousnad euros for a puppy who is taking great delight in my fear of flying, and showing me the recipt for her puppy and the blood line it has , and a bunch of millitery personell - take off and landing was fine, if a little steap due to size of plane, then on landing and getting off i hiked across the airport to carosell's to get my baggage went for a smoke first and then, got my bag and stepped outside to the monte carlo and the person, picking me up.
its been insane so far but im saving all that for a huge ass post later.
but now coffee and a newport before my ass heads out there again, into the cold snow covered roads, feeling the grip of tarmac under me, safe in a knowledge that - if i die. im dieing in the country of road trips, of american fucking pie, of coffee and wendys, of jack in the box and mexican food, of newports and desani water of mountain dew and sour worms.
goddam i love the hidden america, i love the back waters, i love it all.
freedom, ive missed you.
oh and edit: some lyrics i love right now, perfect trip[ music, perfect. thank you mc chris.
I met you on friendster, your name was all weird, I feared the worst but the more I learned it all became clear, you were a female peer, just a few years younger than I, and you wrote the longest letters, the very best size. You live in London, used slang like prat, you were dating the gym one akin to tight abs, I’d spend the days half, trying to make you laugh, you would and write back give me some more of that, well after week. i knew i was hooked, you'd blush at each key stroke xo, without' getting one look at the other side guy his picks might be fake, this type of shit happens every day. I’m no rock star, a clock watching drone, who's breath stinks of liquor, all stoned like lawn gnomes. No girlfriend, no hook ups, just love lorn and lucked up, no friend to just vent on, one who'll, say all bets off. concert was cancelled, you answered my email. Turns out your bummed out didn’t want to give details. A mate had od'd, I could feel your heart beat. i miss you never met you, xomc.
Boys don't cry they prefer bawlin not shot callin. Teardrops fallin, I’m jonesin harder than gollum, please god say that's London callin.
why ya gotta be so far away, why do plane tickets gotta cost an arm and a leg, maybe i should save a couple dollars a day, so without delay, i can look at your face, smell your hair, rest my hand on your neck, never mind neckin, you know that comes next I’ll buy you a dress at that place owned by dodi fayed. give ya head every night before bed. but you might dig mc, might think me to brash or condescending, a sad finish. Without taking a first step, hard to avoid saying something that I will regret but I bet that we would hit off great I could come to you, or you could come to the states, get you a job at mtv, whatever you need, I’m a slave 4 u like Britney was to jt romance is a cruel trick. playin me like school kids, don't know if I should do this, if i'm stupid or just foolish, can't hut peruse this, despite you being half a world from me, what I wouldn't give to sit and sip a cup of tea, while you nibbled on a crumpet, I’d love it indeed, sincerely yours,
Boys don't cry they prefer bawlin not shot callin. Teardrops fallin, I’m jonesin harder than gollum, please god say that's London callin.