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It just sort of came out. Someone must have said it before (as nothing is
truly original), but at least last night, it was new to us.

Him: "You're shitting me."

Me: "I haven't eaten you yet."

Public Service Announcement: He is so not allowed to drink with straight people anymore. They fill his him bad ideas. His stealth shots last night were 3/4 pints of Guinness with a shot of Baileys dropped in. So.Not.Right. But I endured a long day and dutifully downed the deleterious draught. As did one of my new favorite drinking pals, Prince PEI.

So now, a few hours later, I'm sititng in the Terraces Lounge, eagerly awating a day spent in my office in the sky, trying not to stare at the Hellenic hottie sitting across from me, checking his email. Or maybe he's blogging about me??

Perhaps Mr. Beefy Bicepoplois is in the upstairs cabin with me.

"Hello, Brisitsh Airways? Yes, this is Bob in seat 62A on this morning's flight to London. I'd like to order the Loukaniko for breakfast. Yes, I'll have it for lunch as well. Cheers, thanks a lot."

I'm thinking that paper thin gray v-neck t-shirt he's wearing will never keep him warm enough. But that's what I'm here for. To make his flight all the more enjoyable.

I'm a giver like that, I shit you not.