The Plane jerks... (t'was full of them )
I wake up and stretch half across my seat, give myself a good scratch... nothing feels good like a good ol' scratch on your good ol' object with a spherical shape (wanted to keep my Blog rating: G)
i look around and the air hostess is giving me a nasty under the boorkha look, i make out from her eyes that she would be probably 23, with vital statistics of 24-32-24 probably 5'6'' fair and would make for a good ol ride for my good as new tool (Rated : G).
You must be wondering how am i able to deduce all this impeccable information, the fact is i have been enjoying the company of an MBA colleague for quite some time now, and apart from the regular enjoyment that i regularly enjoy, i also make it a point to read a book with a post coital cigar, that way u "discover" while u "re-cover".
i press the knob on top of my seat and she approaches eyeing me with caution, i guess it must have been the tent and the drool that had given my intentions away. None the less she approaches and addresses me for my demand.
Knull... Knull... my mind screams... but i fight all desires and demand for a mug of beer.
Tauba..Tauba.. sirjee we dont deal drinks over the plane and hard drinks are prohibited in the holy land of dubai... they de-capitate u if they find you indulging in any kind of hard drink, or drinks/solids that induce hardness. So please if you would fold down ur tent and wipe off the drool , ill be off.
I am wide awake now, (tent unpitched) my mind races in all directions only to find mirages of beer bottles with holes, who in their right senses would bother wasting ALCOHOL.
As one of my friends used to say, we should be worshipping Al'cohol , this is the binding fluid that makes friends out of foes and helps you find out your true identity, it can be hurting the first time your friend loves you, but after you realise your true happiness its just another pain in the Posterior. (Rated: G)
So i figure out that this chick of the plane knows nothing about the rules that the men make and follow and she probably has been brought up in a very conservative family, my highly trained MBA mind helps me deduce stuff out of the blue.
She passes and i wink, she gives me a smile, a coy sweet one, i am engaged (Rated: G)
She motions me to the airline restroom, and enters it, i look around ...steamy... most of the sheiks are busy dreaming about their dromedaries, or their goats.. i am not judging.. i gently lift my can of vaseline, the time has finally come for it to be used the way it was meant to be. without a noise i enter the RR.
....Silence.... darkness.....
i feel around... there she is... aah.. her...... nopes its just the throne... i look around feeling the wall for a light switch... i find one and switch on the lights.
.....I SCREAM.... on top of my voice.... blood curdling in my veins... I gather my treasure my bottle of vaseline... and rush to my seat where all the sheiks are now as disoriented as me , and the pilot has woken up and is negotiating the directions for landing amidst a desert.
My hartbeat races to 190...
Bzz.. ladies and ghuntleman, we are now reaching dubai al burj we shall be landing shortly provided the landing gears come out (guffaws....)
i lighten up... perspiration weilding over my scared face... i keep looking at the RR, it opens and 2 pairs of green eyes look towards me, i look down.
Ping... the fasten seatbelt sign lights up...
The plane lands with all the jerks...
I run out at the first oppurtunity ... gasping for fresh air.
I recollect all of my deductions that my finely trained MBA mind has made during the flight and i only realise this, there are exceptions to be handled everywhere and freaks come in all shapes and sizes.
and Pictures do speak louder than words...
My Variant of the hostess...
http://www.themakeupgallery.info/weird/beard/dw.htm
I wake up and stretch half across my seat, give myself a good scratch... nothing feels good like a good ol' scratch on your good ol' object with a spherical shape (wanted to keep my Blog rating: G)
i look around and the air hostess is giving me a nasty under the boorkha look, i make out from her eyes that she would be probably 23, with vital statistics of 24-32-24 probably 5'6'' fair and would make for a good ol ride for my good as new tool (Rated : G).
You must be wondering how am i able to deduce all this impeccable information, the fact is i have been enjoying the company of an MBA colleague for quite some time now, and apart from the regular enjoyment that i regularly enjoy, i also make it a point to read a book with a post coital cigar, that way u "discover" while u "re-cover".
i press the knob on top of my seat and she approaches eyeing me with caution, i guess it must have been the tent and the drool that had given my intentions away. None the less she approaches and addresses me for my demand.
Knull... Knull... my mind screams... but i fight all desires and demand for a mug of beer.
Tauba..Tauba.. sirjee we dont deal drinks over the plane and hard drinks are prohibited in the holy land of dubai... they de-capitate u if they find you indulging in any kind of hard drink, or drinks/solids that induce hardness. So please if you would fold down ur tent and wipe off the drool , ill be off.
I am wide awake now, (tent unpitched) my mind races in all directions only to find mirages of beer bottles with holes, who in their right senses would bother wasting ALCOHOL.
As one of my friends used to say, we should be worshipping Al'cohol , this is the binding fluid that makes friends out of foes and helps you find out your true identity, it can be hurting the first time your friend loves you, but after you realise your true happiness its just another pain in the Posterior. (Rated: G)
So i figure out that this chick of the plane knows nothing about the rules that the men make and follow and she probably has been brought up in a very conservative family, my highly trained MBA mind helps me deduce stuff out of the blue.
She passes and i wink, she gives me a smile, a coy sweet one, i am engaged (Rated: G)
She motions me to the airline restroom, and enters it, i look around ...steamy... most of the sheiks are busy dreaming about their dromedaries, or their goats.. i am not judging.. i gently lift my can of vaseline, the time has finally come for it to be used the way it was meant to be. without a noise i enter the RR.
....Silence.... darkness.....
i feel around... there she is... aah.. her...... nopes its just the throne... i look around feeling the wall for a light switch... i find one and switch on the lights.
.....I SCREAM.... on top of my voice.... blood curdling in my veins... I gather my treasure my bottle of vaseline... and rush to my seat where all the sheiks are now as disoriented as me , and the pilot has woken up and is negotiating the directions for landing amidst a desert.
My hartbeat races to 190...
Bzz.. ladies and ghuntleman, we are now reaching dubai al burj we shall be landing shortly provided the landing gears come out (guffaws....)
i lighten up... perspiration weilding over my scared face... i keep looking at the RR, it opens and 2 pairs of green eyes look towards me, i look down.
Ping... the fasten seatbelt sign lights up...
The plane lands with all the jerks...
I run out at the first oppurtunity ... gasping for fresh air.
I recollect all of my deductions that my finely trained MBA mind has made during the flight and i only realise this, there are exceptions to be handled everywhere and freaks come in all shapes and sizes.
and Pictures do speak louder than words...
My Variant of the hostess...
http://www.themakeupgallery.info/weird/beard/dw.htm
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