Straight Trippin While Sippin On Some Usurped Sizurp

On Monday, my husband and I are flying to San Francisco for a business conference. 

Our company is sending us to the Bay Area for five fun-filled days of sex in a luxurious hotel suite, fine dining, and all the shopping that San Francisco can offer! All of this and not a penny out of my Seven Jeans pocket. The opposite actually, seeing how this is still considered work and I'm getting a pay check for it. As if fucking my husband and sipping on champagne can actually be considered work.  

So why the hell did I almost back out of going on this trip? Well I will tell you why!

My assistant emailed me our itinerary and when I read it, I realized that we were scheduled to leave on Monday, September 11th. Of all days to be on a motherfuckin' airplane! What asshole would want to fly on 9/11 anyways? Say, I'm sitting in 1st class enjoying my bag of honey roasted peanuts and a terrorist comes and blows up the plane? Can I really be all that surprised? I mean, it is 9/11 for Hannah Montana's sake. Could there be a bigger I-told-you-so? Umm, no.

I *usurped whatever pull I had over this situation and I made the decision that we weren't going to go. Yeah I said it! WE weren't going. If I'm not going, he ain't going either. **I can say that you see, because not only am I his wife, I am also his business consultant.I get paid to make decisions which will benefit my husband, and believe me, he ALWAYS benefits when he does what I say. It's not because I'm bossy, I just happened to be the one who told young stunna to switch to Bape.

So I sent him an email saying that we weren't going and he comes into my office wondering why I no longer wanted to take the trip. I know I should have been able to articulate to him how I felt about terrorists and irony, except when Jake asked me why I didn't want to go anymore, the only thing that came out of my mouth was:

"BECAUSE THERE ARE MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES ON THE MOTHERFUCKING PLANE!"

After he stopped laughing his ass off, he actually said, "Good! They deserved to FLY and I hope they burn in hell!" 

Le sigh. Oh, do I heart the witty Samuel Jacksonesque banter which exists between the Mr. and I.

My nonsensical explanation suited him just fine because he said that if I didn't want us to go, then we wouldn't go.

Except, now that he put it in his mind that we weren't going to go, I decided I now wanted to go again!

I know, I know. My only excuse is that I have a vagina, so therefore my indecisive behavior is understandable.

So why did I change my mind? Did I have buyer's flyer's remorse? Was I swayed by the free trip or the shopping or all the gays I know in Frisco, and the ones I am sure to meet?

No, it was Jake who ultimately changed my mind. I was so touched by the fact that he would turn down a semi-vacation for me without hesitation that I wanted to return the favor. I would follow that man to Hell if he ever asked me to, so I should be able to follow him to Frisco right? Besides, Hell doesn't have all the nifty shops like in Union Square... atleast I don't think it does.

All I know is that when I die, I want to be holding the hand of the man I love, whether it's on my 100th birthday or when we're nose-diving into the Pentagon. The couple who flies together dies together.

So if you don't see me on AIM and I don't post on Friday, it's probably but because Osama got my ass.

Only Real Terrorists Wear Pink

Anyways, the REAL upside to all of this is that we have added to our daily repertoire of inside jokes that don't make a damn bit of sense to anyone except us. Every answer to every question has now become, "Motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane!"

Nobody understands it, but suddenly everyone around us who have heard us say it are starting to say it too!

Question: "Where are my car keys?"

Answer: "On the motherfucking plane with the motherfucking snakes!"

Question: "Why can't you ever put the toilet seat down? I'm sick of falling in the toilet!"

Answer: "Well I'm sick of all these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!"

Question: "Go fuck yourself!"

Answer: "I would if it weren't for all these motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane!"

It really doesn't make a damn bit of sense, believe me I know. But somehow It truly feels like it could be the answer to all life's questions.

So just must imagine the disappointment I felt when I had ONE, count it ONE! opportunity to actually say this phrase in which God and Samuel Jackson had truly intended only I didn't!

That very night, over dinner and drinks at The House Of Blues, we discussed what we might do afterwards when the idea of watching the movie "Snakes On A Plane" came up.

That's when my bubbleheaded sister-in-law actually blurts out in all motherfucking seriousness, "Snakes on a Plane? What's that movie about?"

Yeah it was like that.

I wanted to say, "It's about motherfucking snakes on a motherfucking plane!"

Duh Dumb-Dumb! Just like how the movie, ***"The Boy Who Could Fly" is about a boy who could fly!"

My sister-in-law is truly an Overheard In Cali  moment in the making. 

We all just looked at each other in amazement like, "Did this bitch really just ask that?"  I really wouldn't have been more dumbfounded had she squatted on the table and took a steamy shit right on top of the creme brule and bananas foster. So I said nothing, simply because anything that came out of my mouth would have made her feel even more stupid. Not that she needed my assistance in doing so, but whatever. 

I raised my martini glass to my lips, and looked at my husband and without speaking, my eyes asked him, "Why the hell is your sister so FUCKING stupid?" He must have read my mind because he gave me this look and I swear to God that look said...

"Because there are motherfucking snakes on the motherfucking plane!"

SIDE NOTES: * " I just love the word "usurp", don't you? I always feel like I am going to say sizurp when I mean usurp. Sizurp is the motherfucking shit ya'll. Tell somebody. Anything that gets you fucked up and clears chest congestion is #1 in my book. Saying usurp makes you sound pretentious, where as sizurp makes you sound ghetto fab.Oh yeah, Five points to me for tying usurp and sizurp together! I am only ten points from becoming an official hoodrat  ** I just re-read this sentence and I sound like dude from the hairclub for men. "I'm not just the client, I am also the president!"  *** Remember that 80's movie about the flying retard? I really shouldn't talk, because come Monday morning my ass will be just that!  A flying retard.