Tag Archives: Travel

Planes, Dachshunds & Killer Whales…(I’m Alive)

The crack staff over at United Airlines...

The Flight To Florida…

I sat next to the Satan Family on the way down—a quietly loud-mouthed family of frackin’ four that featured a rubber-lipped Gummy-Bear junkie of a son and a ‘Tom Hanks with C-cups’ looking Mom who was more than willing to fill the little monster’s mouth with Gummy-Goods the entire flight (I bet you a buck his bowel movements bounce like a bastard)…

The father seemed like an OK guy—except his shorts were just about too short and his legs looked like dead Christmas trees…and if it weren’t for the fact the he appeared to be breast-feeding their other son for the entire flight, I probably wouldn’t have given him a second look, let alone thrown a glass of V-8 right in his face…

It’s OK, I had asked for the whole can of V-8—I had V-8 to spare

The Florida in Florida…

It was 31 years in the making—but I finally made it to Sea World 🙂

While exploring Sea World’s aquatic chambers of sea-sex and salty sins—I turned around, only to find Shamu—dropping his cotton Dockers and flashing his Killer Whanker at me—One of several shocked witnesses snapped the following picture of my reaction to the ordeal…

Due to that Florida sun---I wasn't wearing anything from the waist down that day---This photo has been cropped for your safety...

Before long, I found myself 30-miles offshore on a deep-sea fishing expedition where I proceeded to hook and land the rare and majestic Sea Dachshund (Dachshund of the Sea)

Bonkers...

The Flight Home…

The best flight of my life, hands down.  I was the lone passenger on a flight being tended to by this stewardess (she completed a 3-year stint in a women’s prison just minutes before takeoff)…

Turbulence.

In closing, a confused gentleman from China took my bag right off the baggage claim’s carousel, thinking it was his—he apparently made it all the way to his hotel and was probably wearing my underwear (on his head) before realizing that he’d grabbed the wrong luggage…

I was home by then—in the bathtub, listening to Midnight Oil on vinyl and crying on a cheesecake when I got the call from an angel working for United-Air saying that my bag had been recovered…

According to her, the gentleman’s actual bag was a different color, material and style than mine 🙂

-Ron-Yves Strouteau

PS – What did I miss?

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Our Doors Are Closing Tightly—For 7 Days…

Tomorrow morning I’m getting on a plane  and flying southward—taking direct aim on hurricane Earl’s weathery crotch…

Planes are always a fun time though—Just like anyone else, I enjoy being crammed next to a couple of sweaty donkeys on a winged metal capsule of stress, fear, tension, crying babies, claustrophobia and gay stewards on the brink of insanity—as we hurdle through the sky at about 500-mph.

The best way to cope with all of these variables?  Do what I do. What do I do?  This is what I do…

I'll be reading this book, aloud---for most of the flight...

Sick of obnoxious passengers?  Surpass them all instead…

First, I’ll wear something that’s not only frighteningly tight—but also velvet.  I’ll be donning bright white, hi-top sneakers and a fake gold chain that disappears into my exposed throw-rug of wavy breast hair.  My head hair?  It too will be perfect…

When the peanuts and pretzels are provided, I will proceed to eat them with my mouth open while talking loudly to my neighbors about highly uninteresting bull-shit.  If I see a man using one of those tiny pillows, I will promptly inform him that he’s officially gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

I will also drink V-8 with plenty of ice and those who cast dirty looks my way will find themselves blinded by all of those veggies and antioxidants.  Then I’ll wait for my neighbors to fall asleep, only to wake them because I need to get up and use the restroom—which especially ticks them off because I’ll have the aisle seat…

Much Thanks 🙂

~Ron-Yves Strouteau

The following are some of our earlier posts—that nobody (except Bearman) read…Enjoy!

I Just Puked In My Mouth…(Quick snippet inspired by the Octomom)

Unaware Of Underwear Inflation…(Dr. Max Yestronaut’s frustrating account of an underwear-shopping endeavor)

He Came—He Danced—He Had Intercourse With The Hottest Girl In School…(Outdated film review of rug-cutting classic, Footloose)

Raq-Hell yeah I Would…(5 days from now, I’ll officially want to have sex with a 70 year-old woman)

A Terrible Tumble…(Dr. Max Yestronaut doing his part to make sure some mascot will never ‘live it down’)

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Shark Week? It’s ‘Work Week’ For This Great White Ass…

What appears to be a man doing rough sex to a shark...

8:26 pm East Greenbush, NY: I’m at the frackin’ no-tell motel—the WiFi’s slow as Hell—shit’s got me mad like Mel—and Bill Cosby’s alive and well…

I arrived in Albany, New York yesterday for another humid work endeavor that is sure to render me useless to this blog  for a few days—you people run it…I’ll be back in southern NH by week’s end…

Dear Hotel Room,

Thanks for having me—you’re lucky you bolted the dresser to the floor because that SOB was coming with me otherwise…

The shower you offered me after my work day was certainly lacking water pressure—It felt like 5 dehydrated chipmunks were pissing on my head the whole time.  I also mixed up the 2 small soaps that were left near the sink and accidentally cleaned my ass with the facial-bar instead of the bath-bar…My hindquarters have never looked so award-winning and vibrant.  Thank you…Unfortunately, I thought the little bottle of shampoo you offered me was actually one of those 5-hour energy drinks, therefore I drank it—my poo’ currently smells like the head n’ shoulders of Paul Mitchell…

Your refrigerator is extremely spacious—perfect for the 25-lb. frozen turkey I grabbed from the vending machine down the hall…I plan on preparing the turkey one bite at a time in the shoe-box sized microwave that sits atop the fridge.

I used your phone to call the front desk and scheduled a wake-up call for 5:55 am—I also told the girl at the front desk that she’d better get me a second Gideon’s Bible up here quickly because the exorcism I was performing was essentially getting out of hand.  She screamed—I assured her I was kidding and then demanded she make some of those Otis Spunkmeyer choco-chip cookies that I was snacking on earlier…

Finally—may God bless your air-conditioning unit.  One touch of a little blue button and my fat ass is freeze-dried and slithering into the tightest damn sweatpants you peeps have ever laid eyes on…

Semi-Sincerely,

-Ron

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Mega Bus, mega deuce…

On a recent trip to N.Y. in which I traveled by bus, I had a wide selection of bus lines to choose from when I arrived at the bus terminal in

Fung Wahtch the eff' out bro...

Boston’s South Station…Bolt Bus, Greyhound, Lucky Star, Peter Pan (gimme’ a break) & the Fung-Wah, to name a few.  My original plan was to go with the Fung-Wah, but after I spotted one of their buses (the driver was crying) pulling into the terminal with busted headlights, dragging an unidentifiable carcass of some kind, I decided to look elsewhere.  Also, as it turns out, Fung-Wah translated in English means: “Get the fu*k out of our way”

Regardless, I was looking at a 45 minute wait no matter how I sliced it, until I

You're either on the MegaBus, or off the MegaBus...

found the MegaBus, which had a rig that was N.Y.-bound 5 minutes after I paid my fare…22$ for a one-way tic’  to N.Y. in a clean, comfortable, double-decka’ coach bus.  At only 7 bucks more than the cheapest bus lines, MegaBus also offered WiFi, electrical outlets, a spacious commode and free Swedish massage from a guy named Pete who was sitting in the backseat.  Although nobody was sure if Pete was actually a MegaBus employee or just some homoerotic transient healer.  I could care less—my neck feels better.

…and somewhere on that Mass-Pike I spent 20 minutes and 25 miles in the bathroom with a newspaper I stole from a sleeping Finnish gentleman—to say I felt liberated would be a vast understatement my friends…

-s