So just how bad did my flight suck?

To quote Homer Simpson, "It was the suckiest suck that ever sucked!"
A hour late boarding in Detroit, so I missed my flight in Chicago and was stuck at the airport for a four hour layover waiting for my flight. Somehow, even though I've had a reservation for six months, I got bumped to standby. Some people find airports interesting. They literally make me sick. I have no stomach for the smell of fuel or the smell of others. Besides, I needed to save my money for Vegas and those stingy SOBS at Northwest didn't even want to hand out meal vouchers. Not that I was planning on eating. Still on the going-to-meet Maricel diet. God forbid she should see the real me. I've been sending her nothing but tight face shots, like that was somehow better than my butterball body. There was a screaming kid sitting right behind me all the way from Chicago to Vegas. I guess the adults with him were his parents, but you sure couldn't tell by their actions. Their approach to parenting was just to watch him scream and shake their heads in disbelief at their demon spawn. Then we hit a bad batch of turbulence and the little *#@! projectile vomited on the back on the seat. Only a little got in my hair. All I could think was that Marciel would be saying. "Not only is he fat, but he reeks of vomit." Also of alcohol because the jackass next to me spilled his drink on me. Again, poor Maricel. She'll think she came halfway around the world to meet an obese alcoholic who vomits on himself. When I called Weezer from Chicago he swore the Wolfe's Den was still standing and that the books had come in on time and been placed on the shelves. If you know otherwise, don't tell me.

See you in the funny papers...
Simon Wolfe
Wolfe's Den Comics