Ain’t this the truth, especially these days with terrorism alerts, Homeland Security, and the motherfucking TSA. Who wants to be fondled and/or shot full of radiation, so we can be safe in the skies. Nobody. So, instead drive down to the seedy part of town, meet up with a dude named Skeez in the alley, do that special handshake, cook or light up the shit, buckle your metaphorical seatbelt, and off you go into the friendly skies.
Don’t even have to pack a bag, because of course we’re not counting the baggage that has been accumulating steadily over the course of your mildly disappointing life. That, of course, is coming with you, but it’s lighter when you’re high. YAY!!!