Thursday, April 23, 2009

Seat 29E Letter

I was listening to Rob Bell's podcast sermon called Stunned and Spent. He talked about the significance of lamenting (specifically in today's American culture)

So he read about an absurd but yet funny and honest example of an airline passenger who wrote a letter of complaint to the actual airline. It's called Seat 29E Letter and yes this is real.

Many of us, though, don't make formal complaints, because we don't want to seem like trouble-makers, because we recognize that some things are beyond the airlines' control (they can't stop bad weather, for example), or because we just want to get where we're going without enduring the additional fuss and delay that following company procedures to register an official complaint would

But hear an airline passenger's in-flight comments describe disadvantages of being seated directly across from the plane's lavatory (toilet):

Dear Continental Airline,

I am disgusted as I write this note to you about the miserable experience I am having sitting in seat on one of your aircrafts. As you may know, this seat is situated directly across from the lavatory, so close that I can reach out my left am and touch the door.

All my senses are being tortured simultaneously. It's difficult to say what the worst part about sitting in 29E really is? Is it the stench of the sanitation fluid that's blown all over my body every 60 seconds when the door opens? Is it the wooosh of the constant flushing? Or is it the passengers asses that seem to fit into my personal space like a pornographic jig-saw puzzel?

I constructed a stink-shield by shoving one end of a blanket into the overhead compartment while effective in blocking at least some of the smell, and offering a small bit of privacy, the ass-on-my-body factor has increased, as without my evil glare, passengers feel free to lean up against what they think is some kind of blanketed wall. The next ass that touches my shoulder will be the last!

I am picturing a board room full of executives giving props to the young promising engineer that figured out how to squeeze an additional row of seats onto this plane by putting them next to the LAV. I would like to flush his head in the toilet that I am close enough to touch, and taste, from my seat.

Putting a seat here was a very bad idea. I just heard a man groan in there! This sucks!

Worse yet, is I've paid over $400.00 for the honor of sitting in this seat!
Does your company give refunds? I'd like to go back where I came from and start over. Seat 29E could only be worse if it was located inside the bathroom.

I wonder if my clothing will retain the sanitizing odor . . . what about my hair! I feel like I'm bathing in a toilet bowl of blue liquid, and there is no man in a little boat to save me.

I am filled with a deep hatred for your plane designer and a general dis-ease that may last for hours.

We are finally decending, and soon I will be able to tear down the stink-shield, but the scars will remain.

I suggest that you initiate immediate removal of this seat from all of your crafts. Just remove it, and leave the smouldering brown hole empty, a good place for sturdy/non-absorbing luggage maybe, but not human cargo.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

waaaa!!---new eyeware

i wish i made more time to blog. i've been trying to upload more commentaries but my connection is so slow.

just found out my friend got laser eye surgery which is cool i guess, i was digging the glasses but as for me...NEVER!! as a matter of fact these might be my next pair:


i realize of course they're absolutely RAD but you will have to rid yourself of the jealousy that will be raging inside of you because you don't own them.

ps yes that is Erlend in case you were wondering.