I heard the rumors...

I but I didn't believe them. HA!!! I was at a holiday open house over the weekend and a little lady was collecting signatures for none other than GALE THETFORD to run for an At Large City Council seat. You'd think after the spanking' Bob Manning gave Thetford when she ran to retain her Council seat in the last City election she would take the hint.

All I can say is...
"Um.."

Thetford began every single painful and long winded speech she gave while on the Council with "Um." She should use it as her campaign slogan.

Gawd, are Ran$burg and Marcella going to attempt to rise from the dead and defeated too?

Airlines SUCK. Big time.

I hate travel, I really do. Specifically, I hate air travel. Boarding an airplane rates close to root canal on my to do list. The reason for my absolute disdain of airplanes has little to do with a fear of flying. As I've blogged before, I realize and accept that I'm more likely to die driving in my car, on my way to root canal, than I am on an airplane. Or so I'm told. I'm beginning to have my doubts.

My hatred of air travel is due to the fact that many of my fellow passengers are inconsiderate slobs. These days, spending time on a commercial flight is akin to being trapped in an unvented elevator with a couple of homeless winos for at least three hours.

Polly has been dieting. Polly has been working out. Polly has been Heelying like a mad woman. Polly thinks her arse is looking quite shapely these days and the tape measure agrees. To reward myself, I bought a brand new, grown up, black pin stripe Brooks Brother's suit. I know, sounds stuffy and boring, but trust me. It's not. I like shopping for clothes almost as much as I like air travel. In a rare moment of boredom and weakness I stepped into Brooks Brothers in Chicago. Weak because I FREEZING and simply had to warm myself before continuing my walk to the Metra station.

I'm telling you, this suit called my name. Trying it on was an out of body experience. The garment has magic powers. Once on, cellulite disappears. I'm three inches taller. It says size 10 on the label, but I look like a size 2. Cindy Crawford would be jealous. Other shoppers watch me admire myself in the store's three way mirror. I can feel their envy. The ghosts of Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly applaud. I feel so gorgeous in this suit I'd wear it on my wedding day. I have the abilty to cure cancer, clear the national deficit, and bring about world peace in this suit. There is only one like it left. Moreover, The Suit is on SALE. To look and feel like this for $500 is a bargain. Euphoria.

Like an idiot, I wore my new suit on a commercial flight. Anyone else notice that airplanes are exceedingly filthy these days? Do not reach into the seat pocket in front of you. God only knows what you will find. Three week old used tissues filled with ebola. Last time I checked the seat pocket in front of me I found a used needle. I can only pray the passenger who placed it there suffered from diabetes and not AIDS. Look at the floor and seats. They haven't been vacuumed in months. Such foul decay of the interior cabin really makes one wonder what the maintenance standards are for the rest of the plane. If the engine of the aircraft is neglected in this manner we are all going to die.

Polly sat on a wad of gum thoughtfully chewed and left behind by a previous passenger. My gorgeous new suit, ruined. My formerly perky butt now sagging with depression. Mankind denied my profound beauty and amazing intellect brought about by the magic suit. The magic suit super powers do not include the ability to repel the goo that's penetrated the weave of its fabric. The suit has been defiled, victimized. Don't cry for me. Cry for the magic suit.

Next time I will hitch hike. Probably a safer and cleaner mode of transportation.