Welcome to The Tribe.
Your Humble Ruler, Rajah Cheech Beldone, King of the Gypsies.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Ass. Hole.

So it's summer 1989, and I'm on a flight home from Montreal, where I'd been for a month.
The guy sitting next to me, as it turns out, is Leroy Blugh

Coming back from playing Montreal.
Nice young fella, we chatted a bit.
Of course, if you think about it, a professional defensive lineman and me, sitting next to each other in Economy, well, we didn't have much choice but to buddy up, you know?

Anyways, it's a pretty long flight, you know?
Like 8 or 9 hours.
So we're sitting there, and they do the meal and all.
And then as we're finishing, the Boy Stewardess comes up to young Leroy and leans over and says
"If you'd like, Leroy, I can bring you another steak."
He politely and kind of embarrassedly declined and the guy went away.
And I was fucking gobsmacked, I was like "Hey, motherfucker, what about ME???"

Fuck I hate airlines.


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