I’m not the best flyer in the world and especially now after I sat a twelve hour flight with a turd in me boxers after hitting “slight turbulence” on the way home from Florida. But I do fly regardless and I must say I don’t look forward to it and most of the time I would sooner staple my ass cheeks to a Dodge Viper. I don’t wanna know what I’m eating on the flight, nor drinking, watching, sitting and shit. I don’t care about duty free, reclining seats, bargains or what the in-flight movie is. All I wanna know is three things…

1. Will the plane take off?

2. Will the plane stay in the air?

3. Will we land where they said we will land?

The language they use is surreptitiously patronizing too, planes are never late… they are delayed! Why can’t they just be honest and say “sorry guys, but the plane is late… so please feel free to sleep on the shite metal seats in the waiting area… oh… and cheers for your cash!” Another poor choice of wording is “terminal” Now my ass already drinks the toilet water at the mere thought of flying, so why use the word terminal… why not area? District? Zone? Or even Sector… Terminal for fucks sake… cancer is terminal, AIDS is terminal, watching Richard and Judy is terminal… flying off on holiday shouldn’t be!

Why do they always tell you what could go wrong once your strapped in and squashed next to the window by a forty stone dinner lady? They never say a goosing word when your buying your ticket, they wait until your strapped in then they talk about the possible “emergencies” you could suffer. Now when I’m on a plane the word “emergency” is a tad flippant to me… CRASH!… is a much better word as I should imagine if there were an emergency it world last all of about three seconds, as I should suspect that’s how long it takes for 350 tons of metal to drop out of the sky.

“If we put down on water…” they say as they show us how to use a sodding life jacket. “put down” again replaces the word crash deviously and pointlessly. You “put down” a cup of coffee, you “put down” a television remote… you can’t put down a sodding Boeing 747! If you try and put down a bloody plane from 5000 feet the fucking thing will bury itself into the ground quicker than an Beaver with a rocket strapped to it’s scrotum.

The flight safety card makes me laugh too and for those who aint seen one I’ve supplied one for ya to laugh at. Now you’ll notice that the crap pilot has managed to “put down” on the nicest and flattest piece of the brightest blue ocean that exists anywhere in the world. Have you noticed how the 350 ton plane floats effortlessly on the surface? I don’t need to say anything like for that… if the missus can sink a metro in a lake then that fucking pilot cant keep a Boeing 747 afloat in the Indian Ocean. There is one thing missing on that flight card… little black fins!

If you land in the middle of the ocean after a crash, there’s gonna be people covered in shit, sweat, tears and more importantly BLOOD! If you get on a plane and the flight card has fins on it then chances are I was there long before you! But have no fear… if you do crash in the ocean your life jacket has… wait for it… a WHISTLE! Praise the lord Jesus fucking Christ I’m so glad, a whistle to blow while surrounded by three hundred screaming and crying surviving passengers, four hundred sharks with more teeth than the entire Brady Bunch and waves a mile high capable of flattening buildings… but don’t fear… you have a whistle.

The one thing that survives a crash is the black box… it’s bomb proof, fire proof, water proof and pretty much everything proof… so why don’t they put some fucking wings on it and let us sit in the bloody thing!