Oh sweet Holy Mother on grilled cheese, the plane. I hate flying. I hate the ear popping and the taking off and the landing and the teensy bathroom. A bathroom which, I have no problem stating, throws me into fits of irrational fear. I fear that if I have to pee in an airplane lav, that there will somehow be some kind of vacuum that will be caused by the girth of my ass and that I will be sucked down through the toilet and flung into the clouds. Without my pants. Then people would call in UFO sightings of something very white and shiny falling rapidly over the skies of California...immediately followed by reports of acid rain. Or ass-id.
I feel safer on a plane when it's taking off or landing. I know: statistically, these are the most dangerous times. But I figure, if you crash closer to the ground, you'll sustain fewer injuries, right?
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