NOTE: There will not be a comic on Tuesday. Due to circumstances beyond our control, Piro is dead. Er, I mean he's busy at work again. So we'll resume on Wednesday with our normal happy schedule.
I hate flying with a passion.
Now before you start, it's not that I have a fear of flying - it's just that whenever I fly, I'm positive that my plane is going to crash into an ocean, mountain, or a Starbucks.
It's not that I mind the idea of death, as a point of fact - I consider him a very polite houseguest. Where was I? Oh yeah - falling from the sky at thirty-thousand feet after enjoying a last meal which will have consisted of a sample pack of beer nuts and what the airline attempts to pass off as food.
It's been my belief that airlines feed us with the remains of what America sends to third world countries. Either that, or we're eating what the third world countries sent back to us.
Since I'm going on a trip, I need some new stuff. I went out with my good friend, Joe. To start with - I needed some new luggage. We made the mistake of first going to a luggage specialty store. These bags cost more then my car payment, the store turned out to be one of those places for the mega-rich types. The manager was friendly enough, and didn't realize we'd have needed a loan in order to buy his stuff. So he showed us around his shop and tried to sell me an authentic baby sealskin duffle bag. We quickly left the store when the manager wanted to know if we could join them in a thrilling game of hunting human for sport on the weekend.
We then headed down to the Eddie Bauer store where I selected a sweet(read affordable) bag and some accessories. I went ahead and only got the essentials, you know - duffle bag, umbrella, metal booze flask, some new socks, etc. After leaving the store, we both had so much junk with Eddie Bauer written on it, we felt like walking advertisements.
There I was, packing my bags and making ready for my journey to another bloated reminder that bigger isn't always better, New York City. It's about this time that a thought hits me. Since I'm flying there, I once again run the risk of having my plane crash, or worse - run out of booze.
So here it is, my last will and testament for all the world to read:
1. I want to be buried with a copy of Neverwinter Nights. Now I realize that NWN won't be coming out for almost a year, so in the meantime, my body is be kept in Piro's fridge - next to his fresh orange juice.
2. Eventually someone will need to call up John Romero so he can resurrect me. I figure he ought to have that kind of power if he can bring Ionstorm back from the dead.
Ok, so maybe I'm being a bit silly about all this, I mean it's not like the airlines are cost cutting merchants of death. I... uhoh.
My overreacting aside, it still ought to bother some of you that many people are traveling on planes older then they are. Still, I won't let that bother me, I will bravely venture into the airport, ignoring the cold medicine drowsy pilots and meth addicted air traffic controllers, I'll make my way to a plane that's older then pong and not give it a second thought. I'll do all these things, because I'm an idiot.
Well, that's about it for me, I'll see you guys later this week, if not - I'll be seeing Piro's orange juice.
37% of your base are belong to IRS.