FLY THE FAT-ASS SKIES

Took a flight yesterday from Las Vegas to New York. After 11 years working at the same company somehow the Travel Management Department got the bright idea to book me in a middle seat. Genius! Nothing like being hung-over and half drunk with cottonmouth enjoying a 6 hr flight wedged between two enormously fat men.
Meal service? Here's a box of rice krispies with skim milk.
I'm sorry but how do people let themselves get so goddamn out of shape?
Two sweating, snorting, snoring fools in golf shirts forcing my arms off the armrests for the entire flight. And the air conditioning was on the fritz as well.
Nothing like watching sweat roll off furrowed brows for hours at a time.

Paging Dante-I've found the sixth ring of Hell and it's Continental Flight 235 to Newark.