Airport Rant

So, here I sit in the Toronto Airport. Apparently internet is still not free here, which is so gay. Anyway, I’ve decided it will be fun to make random comments about passers by. Not verbally of course, but recorded here for all to see in a future blog.
Some crazy woman just drove by in a one of the little carts. You know, like the one that Austin Powers gets stuck in the hallway. I’ve always wanted to ride on one of these at the airport. It would make me feel special. If not the cart, being pushed in a wheelchair could also be good. In fact, I’m thinking of faking a leg injury. Yeah, that could do it. I’d get wheeled right up to the gate, and then run on the plane yelling “you got played sucker. Biyahhh!”
The other thing I’m noticing about the work force here are there lovely maroon coloured vests. So gorgeous. I wonder how one could go about acquiring one of these. Possibly theft. I could launch a covert sneak attack on one of the dudes while he’s on the dumper.
Really cute blond just walked by with nice braided hair. I really like braided hair, don’t know why. Maybe it’s the SFU effect? (pipe band people will get this).
BTW, the gate where my plane is leaving from is down the crappy wing. It’s named this because the duty free section there is very small and they have NO premium cigars. Last time I flew from this section I walked all the way around the terminal to the other duty free, bought cigars there and had them send them back to my gate. I don’t feel like doing that today. This is much more interesting.
Got the music pumping now. “What’s going on” by 4 Non Blonds. Total one hit wonder. Good tune though. I feel like singing aloud. Too bad someone wasn’t here to film that.
A small child just walked by that smelt like he may have made a delivery in his pants. Hope he’s not on my plane. It is a delivery free plane. There should be rules about dropping a mean one on the plane. It’s like a bus. Not good. Even farting. Glenn Brown is a serial plane farter. “I don’t care. I paid my money. I’m dropping ‘em” -Glenn Brown
Ooh, here comes the cart again. Wow. Fat woman on the back. I swear I could get on that thing. And it has the little bell they ring to get people to move out of the way. I think a megaphone would be much cooler/ “Scuse me. I said scuse me! I got a fat woman on this thing. She ain’t gonna walk herself, so you best move your ass out the way!. Thank you…bitch”
Wow! Serious hot brunette/ That’s one thing that never changes, there is always awesome talent at airports. It seems like they get themselves all dolled up as well. Gotta make a good impression at the airport. Black pants. White and grey stripped shirt. Anyone know her? Now maybe she’ll be on my plane. I’ll taker her over poopy pants child.
Little kid just gave me the stare down. The rumble could be on. Stay tuned.
Hawaiian shirts are a great idea at the airport. They draw lots if attention and people assume your going somewhere nice. Why though does every dude who wears one of these have a giant moustache? And what is with moustaches? Honestly Students at Cal-Berkley have just finished a study which scientifically proves that moustaches only look good on two people. Burt Reynolds and Tom Selleck.
Just had my first “I think it’s a woman but could be a dude” sighting. This is a fun game to play. They’re out there people. Keeps your eyes peeled.
Haha. This guy is walking by with a serious waddle. You know you’re fat when you’ve got the waddle. LOL, seriously, his arms are flapping side to side as he goes. Best part so far, besides the hot chicks.
Just spotted a prime target for “operation get me an ugly vest”
I’m on a second page. I haven’t written this much since I wrote to Avril Lavigne trying to convince her leave that jerk Derrick and go for me. Whatever, restraining orders aren’t a big deal.
The girl checking my bags in liked my new long hair. “You’re not a stewardess on this flight are ya” I asked, “No, unfortunately not” she replied. “Your loss” says I. She smiled. Seriously this happened. No it didn’t.
Well, I’m gonna pack things up now. Time to fire into Harry Potter. I’ve just bought the Deathly Hallows but I have a couple hundred pages of the Half Blood Prince to finish first.
Bizzle, Outttttttttt.

Pressure

Well, well, well. With the recent explosion of readership here at G Bizzle Entertainment (we now have 4 readers instead of 2), there has come a new pressure to perform. To those whom it may concern, a statement, I am not your dancing monkey. I post when the genius strikes. Often times the genius seems to strike when I am on the dumper, or when I've been profoundly struck by a comment from the great Philosopher, Jimmy "The Hot Dog" Rollo. As the Hot Dog would say, "Ryan, you suck".

Alas, I have returned to my writing ways, and there are many things to touch on this week. This afternoon I saw the new Harry Potter movie. I had just finished reading the book in anticipation of the film, and I must say I was let down. So much plot development was skipped. Good adaptations are so tough to come by. The book is 750 pages long, and there is just so much going on there was never any way it was going to translate into a great film. The movie did have a redeeming factor, Hermione Granger (aka. Emma Watson). Is this girl 18 yet? (quick check says no, 17). Uh oh, I feel like I'm having a Hilary Duff moment again.

It was raining the other day and I really found myself wishing I had an Um-B-Rella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh, a big black Um-B-Rella, ella, ella sorry, I had to. That song is so damn catchy. Like, "Crazy" or "the Hamster Dance". Remember the Hamster Dance? No? My bad.

This weekend is the Chattam highland games. The games is really just a pre-cursor to the Saturday night party, which is always one of the best of the year. After the beer tent the nightly festivities take place at the Wheels Inn. The Wheels is an amazing place. Every year hundreds of African-American families bring their loved ones to the Wheels Inn for vacation. Seriously. You guys no what's in Chatam? Nothing. They all come to vacation...at the hotel. Huge families hanging about the pool, drinking Miller High Life. Maybe gathering around the tv, watching Maury Povich to see if some guy really is some whores babys daddy. Only to find out he's not. And that guy jumps up and does a sick dance that is way better than most of the jack asses on "So you think you can Dance". So then they test another 12 dudes because the truth comes out and she actually nailed all of them in a giant gang bang. Only none of them are the father either, and she's bawling, while the audience is yelling "whore". God bless Maury Povich, and the Wheels Inn.

I'm gonna leave now, as the laptop seems very hot. I can't afford to buy another one of these things. Peace Out, boiiiiii.