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Well, I’M never flying again.

Quite a few others have already written about the utter crap that has been decided in the wake of the dumbass who flew from Amsterdam to Detroit and set his crotch on fire while trying – somehow – to bring down the plane.

The fact that it was known that he was an unstable douchenozzle well beforehand just makes the whole situation worse.

I just read the new regulations, and I’m not hurting for action enough that having someone pat my upper thighs and lower torso in the name of “security” seems like a great idea to me.

I know I’m not alone here.

I wonder how long it will take before people just stop flying and end this nonsense?

Will the result of that be that we are all forced to take one flight per year when the airline industry starts losing money?

I see a few paths here, and none of them are good.

Add the whole INTERPOL mess to this, and I think I might spend New Year’s Eve drinking heavily and playing videogames until I get amnesia.

My husband will, of course, be joining me in my efforts.  Because that’s what love is all about:  togetherness.

9 comments to Well, I’M never flying again.