Twisted News: Pet Airways has Snoopy seeing $$$$$$

When I found this odd story on the wonderful world of web I had some trouble wrapping my mind around it. To me, the whole concept of pets flying on their very own airline seems a bit twisted. Or at least really bad timing. We’re in a recession and the human airline industry has suffered but, what the hell! They must know we’ll give our pets the very best. That’s why when I travel I leave my dogs with a greasy 18-yr-old homebody, hard up for a twenty dollar bill and all the food he can scrape off the bottom of an oven (before he comes over - his parents pay him to leave now).

On July 14th this ‘first of its kind’ airline will make its long awaited debut and begin flying what I assume will be the favorite children of America’s rich and famous. So if it wears tailored clothing it’s welcome. *Here’s where you imagine a poodle in a pink $200 sweater that fits oh-so-nice. Or you could go with Michael Jackson’s chimp in an altered toddler tux and cufflinks. The possibilities are endless.

Prices start at $149 for a one-way ticket. So it looks like my puppy Sarge, nicknamed Shredder, has less than 3 months to get his shit together (his act - he has nothing left to pack). On July 11th he’ll turn 1 yr so it’s not much to ask. This extremely cute Retriever has not behaved in any manner consistent with his handsomeness. He’s cost me hundreds in chewed-up bras, appliance cords, dog house, etc. What’s another $149 bucks? Who wouldn’t want to play a game called Who’s The Next Sucker?

I just want him to stop with the bipolar bit. He’s not fooling me. I know he’s crazy ALL of the time.

Flights on Pet Airways will be available in New York, Denver, L.A., Chicago and Washington, D.C.! Lucky Obama family. When their tootsies get sore from all that chewing they can ship off US Treasury Secretary (who doubles as President of France) Timothy Geithner for a weekend. Their new puppy Bo could accompany him, just to keep a watchful eye.

Washington D.C. - you couldn’t pick a better location. I know whenever I think ‘menagerie’…

If you thought perhaps you could fly with your pet - the good news is, you can’t! So don’t worry. No one will be expecting that of you. The only things allowed for the ride that are remotely close to human beings are the strange creatures they call Pet Attendants. It's a tough job but they know all the pertinent languages like Cat, Dog and Dead Goldfish.

Still interested? Do your pets have their own booster seats at the dinner table? Do you ever push them in a stroller? Then this is what you do. You leave your precious pooches at what the airline calls the Pet Lounge. So tell them to leave their wallets at home or bring their best poker faces. It’s the Pet Lounge. That’ll grow ‘em up in a hurry.

A Pet Attendant takes them to potty a couple hours before boarding, which makes me wonder. How does this work at an airport? What can I say. I live in a world where animals do their business outside. And I haven’t had to use the facilities at a Pet Smart. It was weird enough sidestepping dogs, water bowls on the floor and as I was leaving - hearing a clerk’s answer to my joke question, “Anyone ever bitten?”

“Just once, at least while I’ve been here.”

Pet Smart? Oh-kay.

Dumbfounded, I left with eyebrows slightly raised. Around here when a dog bites it bites the dust. Literally. It doesn’t get that second taste of human flesh. We kill it. But what can you expect from a city that lets a dog attack his neighbor twice? Yep, that city also has a Pet Smart. So that settles it. I’m not going back. At least I’ll never have to find out if their restrooms have sandboxes.

So, back to the news that would have Snoopy and his poodle bitches partying in first class if Charles Schulz were still alive (but he would call them ladies). The attendant, much hairier than your average stewardess, sits with your pet the entire flight and caters to its every need. Well, maybe not every need and I should hope not.

I’m wondering, if it gets too noisy or there are species wars, do they use certain tactics like playing the movie Madagascar 2 (the one where the plane crashes)?


Random Poll: Would you use this airline service for your pets?

A) Yes! What a creative way to (once and for all) lose Spot.

B) The ‘not knowing’ seems dreadful and bullets are much cheaper.

C) Would be too much trouble; my pet’s name is on the watch list.

D) I don’t have any pets. I really like polls and I’m pissed that this isn’t interactive. I like to watch the results appear before my eyes and see how my answer compares to others. WTF is this? You lazy bitch.

No more baggage

I’m revealing my hatred for all baggage.

Baggage = Ass






I used to think one of society’s worst problems was crystal meth. But now I know the truth… it’s crack.

How come most jeans are still baggy in one way or another? I was ready for the fad to end right about the time it started. Sometimes I have to break down and wear a belt (grr) to keep the suckers up on my waist where they belong. If I downsize the jeans so they fit my waist or legs, surprise! Camel toe is not cool, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in it… unless the funeral director is a total moron.

Let me explain why I’m such a horrible shopper. The story behind the baggy story.

• I like to go in, grab something in my size, and get right out of that trap baby. It’s really simple, shopping = broke. The longer I’m in there the less money I have to piss away on gasoline, and steak. I can always bank on spending at least $100 an hour if I‘m not playing offense.

• They fail to put warning labels on women’s jeans. If they’re relaxed fit, they should be clearly marked “belt required”. If they’re going to ride low they should say “crack alert”. If they have extra long pant legs they should be pre-rolled and sewn up into place so I can bypass them altogether. I’m not gonna look like a milk maid.

• It always looks good hanging on the rack. It never fails; I just can’t trust my own eyes. I’m playing the odds every time, and they‘re usually against me because I‘m always in a hurry.

• I don’t like to try on clothes at the store, it eats up precious time. Yes, I value my time more than I should. I’m a single working mom, go fig. And I hate changing rooms. Not because there is always a woman sporting a mullet and a creepy smile guarding the entrance. Well...

• I usually have kids with me. All kids have a breaking point after spending time in any store. This differs depending on the store, the child, and how much authority you actually have over the child. I prefer to avoid reaching that point when they start getting bored, restless, hungry, tired, whiny, and covetous. Because I have a fear that if I’m in the store too long with the kids I might hear something like, “Mom, little sister is crazy-out-of-control on a bike and people are running and calling security.”

Or, “Sorry Mom, I guess you’ll have to pay for these Doritos, Cheetos, BBQ Lay’s and Skittles now. We‘re still going to the steakhouse, right?”

Or, “Mom, we found little sis passed out in a chair covered in Cheeto dust. Oh, the chair is orange too, and that lady over there who says she’s the manager wants to talk to you.”

• When I buy crap, I keep it. If it doesn’t fit right, too bad. I can always find some one or some thrift shop who will take it. I’m not gonna go back to the store and do an exchange. Then I‘d have to go into the changing room, as hypocritical as it sounds. After going through the trouble of exchanging it, I’d have to make sure I‘m getting something that won‘t slide down and show my business. And I can’t help it if I have an irrational fear of “mullet woman”.

• I like online shopping. Basically, it’s to avoid everything mentioned above. And…I always get a warm and fuzzy feeling whenever I get a package, like some one just sent me a present. By the time my orders arrive I‘ve already forgotten about them, so it‘s like Christmas year round. Since I never get anything for Christmas it just makes it that much more special.

I don’t mind being the one to sass the ass crack. I’d love it if jean makers could go back to the way it was. By the way, are they still making plus sizes while they‘re producing all of these huge-waisted jeans? Why?

Baggage = Weight

The kiddies and I like to take trips. But when it’s time to load up the bags I always end up doing a double take. I wonder why our bags outnumber us by 4-1. So I end up wasting precious driving time going through each and every bag, making sure the kids aren’t trying to sneak their friends along. Who wants to be accused of being part of a child-smuggling ring?

And after all is said and done, I reach the conclusion that no one got overzealous with the packing, and we DO need all that baggage, and I just have like… too many kids. Then I make them load up the bags…

Baggage = History

Every man and woman who has ever been in a serious relationship that came to an end has some baggage. But you can lose it in order to move on. Just take it to your nearest airport.

How do you feel about baggage?