Home. Dog seems glad to see me.

Delta told me on the internet to go to Terminal D at LGA, but when I got there the board said my flight was leaving from Terminal C. Because Delta knew I was running late and Delta hates me. 

Also, I don't want to order my pre-flight shot of Jack by futzing around with an iPad tethered to the bar. Just telling the bartender is easier, and it's what I ended up doing anyway when I got stuck on the frou-frou cocktail screen. Cut the needless hardware and shave a few bucks off your drink prices, why don't you. 

For dinner I had a Clif Bar that had been in my bag since I don't know when. The Best By date on those things is meaningless. 

And now it's late enough to say that the Mayan apocalypse is on hold, for everyone but John Boehner.

Comments

[Cunningham]

I bought a Luna bar yesterday, in case there's a snowstorm. Then I read on the package that it's for women. But if you can gut it out and eat an expired bar, then I can eat a woman bar. You inspire me, man. You are the wind beneath my wings. Oh no - it's happening!