President's Club

We're sitting calmly in Houston's Club Prez awaiting a flight that will take us to Seattle, San Diego, Boston and Sugar Land. We measure hangovers against a register of despotic genocidal leaders and after last night's liver whoring, based on the Idi Amin scale, we're a brain throbbing Tamerlane.That facial hair tells our tale of misery

Since we fly more than a Serbian mafioso hitman, we've come to appreciate watching the brain liquification process that occurs to our fellow co-travelers during the distressful holocaust that is a security check point. We love the attention paid to us, as we carry on various prototypes and stink of ammonia passing severely noticed through the screening area. Chad tenderly pats us down and questions our loose citizenship. Notice us! that's all we want.

Have a good week, you faceless mass of society contributors.