A blog dedicated to the researchers who dyed a captured chimp's fur pink, then released it. The other chimps promptly tore it to pieces.

Friday, August 31, 2007

And people wonder why I despise flying

So Momma's been up in Minnesota the last couple of weeks working disaster relief after the floods. She's flying home tomorrow, albeit by a rather roundabout route.

When they sent her up, she flew from KC to Chicago, then Chicago to Minneapolis. KC to Minneapolis is 435 miles, give or take. KC to Chicago is almost exactly 500 miles. And Chicago to Minneapolis is a little over 400. So they sent her almost 500 miles east so she could get on another plane, fly 400 miles west, and wind up 400-odd miles from where she started.

But it gets better.

Coming home tomorrow, she's going to leave Minneapolis and fly the 435 miles to KC. But she's not going to stop in KC - she's going to continue on south another 550 miles to Dallas, where she will catch a plane to fly back north 550 miles to KC. Look at the map - the most direct route from Minneapolis to Dallas involves flying right over KC.

The explanation for this lunacy is that while there are indeed flights from KC to Minneapolis, (flights I seem to recall being on sale for $39 some years back) these flights are now prohibitively expensive, forcing the would-be passenger to either cough up big bucks for a ticket or waste most of a day shuttling back and forth across the country.

I didn't exactly endear myself to her when I pointed out she could have driven to Minneapolis in the same amount of time (or less) it took her to fly, particularly on the way up where she experienced the traditional O'Hare delays. What exactly is the advantage to flying anymore, since it seems it's no longer faster (or cheaper, despite the price of gas) than driving?

The only way you can get me on a plane these days is to pay me. I'd much rather drive, particularly someplace relatively close like that.


  • At 9:11 PM, Blogger Anntichrist S. Coulter said…

    Yup, this is the one where I had the "Great American Novel" comment.


    Oh, no, don't fret, I'm sure that it'll come back to me, at some point, if I survive the anaesthesia...

    Who, me?

    Guilt trip?


    Li'l ol' me?

    Oh, non, c'est impossible! Next to the likes of my grandmother, the Baptist minister's widow, I will never be but a rank amateur. If SHE were still with us, though, oh, she'd have you out in the back yard, cutting a switch for your whuppin', and then THANKING HER for having done so.

    And not in a pervy way, either.


  • At 4:51 PM, Blogger Realist said…

    Count your blessings. At least I didn't fuck up again and hit reject instead of publish. Of course, it's not five o'clock in the morning, either.

  • At 8:57 PM, Blogger Anntichrist S. Coulter said…

    Okay, Mister, so where ya been? Y'know, aside from worrying about my useless ass and similar silliness...

  • At 3:37 AM, Blogger Realist said…

    Trying to get everything caught up so I can leave on my trip next week. Unfortunately, I'll be flying. ;-)

  • At 8:45 PM, Blogger Anntichrist S. Coulter said…

    Valllllllium. If you brought shrooms, they'd find them.

    Try not to think of the carbon footprint or anything like that, try not to think of the stinky assholes sitting around you who don't understand basic hygiene, try not to think about how you'd rather be driving, just dose-up and kick back.

    If anybody deserves a good vacation, it's you. And even if it's work, at least it's a different locale for a minute, eh?

    Thank-you cards are in process. Absofuckinglutely LOVED the rose bush. Too fucking perfect, too fucking beautiful.

  • At 2:23 PM, Blogger Realist said…

    No hurry. Hearing it made you laugh was all the thanks I needed.

    The Valium would be great if I had any. One of the drawbacks of not going to the doctor - no drugs, thanks to our asshole nanny state. It wouldn't be so bad if they'd take responsibility for the pain and suffering caused by their policies, but NOOOOoooooo! Taking responsibility is for the little people. And I wouldn't even know where to attempt to buy something like that on the street these days.

    I'll see if I can get your Epilepsy Foundation button up before I take off Wednesday - I've got a shitload of stuff still to do, so I may be a little slow replying for the next week or two. Should be able to squeeze it in, though.

  • At 4:56 PM, Blogger Anntichrist S. Coulter said…

    That rosebush was the first real gut-laugh that I've had in at least four or five years. Scared the shit out of my physical therapist, and then I had to explain the whole joke and punchline to her, which made her edge toward the door even faster, but it was all worth it!

    I can't imagine a more perfect get-well present, ever. After the hell that I went through at Cath-O-Lick Central, after teh Fallen Uterus stole flexerils out of my purse to give to her alcoholic junkie scumbag Golden Son King, whilst my guts were splayed out on the fucking O.R. table, after the big-fat-queen male nurse made a point of tormenting me and depriving me of the care that my spine surgeon had ordered (and came in the next day, HIS ONE DAY OFF, to RE-ITERATE THOSE ORDERS; Good Doctor RAWKS!!!), after all of that shit, I come home, and your rosebush was the first thing that I saw.

    You have no idea how much it lifted the weight and stress off of my shoulders. I will never forget that. Like it's not enough that you saved my computer's life, and that you keep my dinky little blog functioning, you hadda go and be all wunnerful like that. I'll never forget it, and I will always appreciate the hell out of you.

    Y'know that I don't do xmas, but I'll see if I have any spare valiums lying around... heh heh heh... it's the least that I could do...



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