Liveblogging my airplane trip to NYC, not so much because I figure you care but rather because I'm bored as shit... Claustrophobic as hell but according to clock we are 25 minutes ahead of schedule, according to web we are 45 minutes ahead of schedule. I want to trust the web. There is a man sitting next to me that smells of whiskey so bad that I want to puke. He doesn't smell like whiskey from a bottle though, more like whiskey licked out of a dead woman's mouth - that weird old stale smell that reminds me of grandma, had she drank whiskey instead of vodka. I would wish him death but I fear that he might actually smell worse if that happened.

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