I was once flying into Miami on a 737, and I was on the aisle next to two nubile young lovelies. The entire flight was rather rough, but I maintained my macho exterior(while fighting the exhaustion of holding my gut in for 2.5 hours) until our approach for landing. I glanced over to the window and saw brightly illuminated smoke. I let out the most un-manly girly scream imaginable, illiciting raised eyebrows from my two seatmates. Realizing that they weren't in the least bit concerned I raised up a bit to get a better view out of the window only to realize that we were on the wing, passing through a cloud, and the pilot had turned the landing lights on. I prefer road trips.
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