Back From Taheets

I just got back from Tahiti. I was a good trip, lovely, although I had to sell a kidney to pay for it, got a blood infection from mosquito bites and nearly starved to death.

You can read all about it in SE 67 On Location issue. It’s not out for a while though so don’t hold your breath.

I have a new least favourite airport in the world, LAX. What a shit hole. Even though I had three hours in the fucker all I did was stand in line before getting on the next 11 hour flight.I thought Paris Charles de Merde was the shittest but I was wrong. LAX is satan’s own creation.

On the flight between Papeete and LA I was sitting next to an American couple. We started to go through some turbulence and the lady started freaking out. ‘Do something Brian!’ she shrieked at her hubby. What do you want him to do, lady? Go up to the cockpit and headbutt the pilot? Grab the steering thingy and crank a bit cutback around the bumps? I thought about karate chopping her in the voice box but I was tired and weak so I just carried on watching Benjamin Button.

In LAX I saw a few American birds with massive plastic baps. Massive. One such lady recognized me from TV and asked me to sign her Von Dutch vest top thingy near the bap region. I signed it with a brown marker pen. She asked me to hang out with her for a while but I quickly realized she had detestable spiritual qualities and instead opted to go to the ‘bathroom’ (not a bath in sight) and try to do something about my burning biffins.

On the flight between LA and Paris, shortly after take off I got up to do a plop and when I got back to my seat a middle aged, orange-coloured french man was sitting in my seat. Unbelievable. He moved from the seat next to his wife and sat in mine! I told him to move and he tried to sit in the seat next to me. I did that finger waving thing loads of times in his face as there was someone in that seat too (I think he was plopping too… weird). Go back and sit next to your wife, man. It’s not our fault your marriage is a farce and you cant stand the sight of her wrinkled orange face. Oh la la. Incidentally it was the very same guy who had snaked me in the queue at check-in. Him and his wife were behind me for about 20 mins of queueing but then decided to take me on a corner! Oh the gall of it. The bare faced cheek. Anyway, after the seat incident it was way too much to let go unchecked, so I made sure that some hours later, on my way for plop number two I paused by his seat, pretended to be getting something out of the overhead locker and let one rip right in his grid. The beauty of the Boeing 777 Rolls Royce engine noise is that you can guff as much as you want and no one will hear.

What’s the only thing worse than going on a surf trip to paradise and writing an acidic blog about airports and flights?

Reading about it! What’s wrong with you? Go and watch an ‘extreme sports’ video you baffoons!


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