crustaceans in the sky, continental airlines featuring INXS

after a hearty brunch and a much needed nap, my car service showed up at my home and we began our journey to newark airport. my driver, el sadid lo mohammed shake shack, took an interesting route to the EWR. basically, i could have rollerbladed there faster, even without lycra. eventually, after a series of side streets and back alleys through jersey (with me frantically pointing out the window up to the 1/9 above and saying "there el sadid lo mohammed shake shack! that is our road en shallah") we arrived at newark. it was the catering entrance, but who am i to complain.

after several discouraging attempts to check in curbside (i mean, i took a freaking limo COME ON!) i went inside to the machines and checked in. up to this point i had completely forgotten JUST WHY i was flying on continental out of newark. when i received my boarding pass, the fog of my hangover cleared like my soon to be plane soaring out of the clouds and into the beautiful sun. i am elite, special class on continental.

nice.

security was no problem now that i am cleanshaven and have completed those classes that foto loco sent me to - behavior reappropriation classes (re-attaining one's childhood charm! in 6 easy classes). i put my shoes back on and grabbed my camera gear from the xray trolley and with a hop skip and a jump began my vacation.

nearly, meaning not quite, 15 steps later i was greeted by this sign which reads " hoes cleaned here"

"really?"

i hung out for a while, with my digi but no " hoes" showed up!

then i was at my gate. i dont really understand how it happens, but everytime i travel, my gate IS ALWAYS the last gate. even if the gates are out of numerical order. for some reason the airport architects felt like throwing gate#125 down on the left, and not inbetween #124 and #126 which were right next to where " hoes cleaned here" was going down. i was bummed.

but not for long.

i mossey-ed on up to the guy at the check in desk and asked if he had any "bulkhead" available. i have learned that this line is actually a comeon in 17 countries. BE CAREFUL where you ask it! he glanced at my elite special person boarding pass and with his best hollywood jaw (key mood lighting) asked "are you sure you want 'teh' bulkhead?" i quickly consulted my blackberry to make sure that NEW JERSEY isnt one of the countries where that line is considered a pickup line.

it isnt and thus -

i answered "uh...yeh, why?"

to which re responded, feigning interest in me, "because you are already in 'teh' FIRST CLASS."

i played it cool. and then did a little squeal 180 turn that i usually save for east village nightclubs and gave myself a high five. yet another reason i fly continental special person class.

nice.

30,000 feet later, i am relaxing as one can only relax in 'teh' first class. this trip is starting out well and only getting better. i glance at the menu when "rajulio" comes to take my order.

"mr. latch key, would you like the lobster for dinner?"

now, i have never eaten lobster at 30,000 feet. i have done alot of things at 30,000, but crustacean is NOT among them. so, fuck the mile high club. you aint seen shit, till you done tossed back lobbie the lobster in first class while watching "the gaurdian". serious.

after my ... meal, i needed a nap. i put on my eye cover, fired up arcade on the ipod, and slipped into a sweet slipstream of crustacean fueled sleep.

nearly 5 hours later i am at pdx talking to my pops on the cell phone. he timing is impecable. as soon as my cell had reception, i recieved his phone call and we chatted only momentarily as i was feeling anxious about starting the macgyver portion of my trip. my mom had parked her car in the econo lot, as she had just flown out of pdx the day before, and i had to find the "blue bus" to the "blue lot" in order to find her car.

"are you the blue bus?"
"NO-I AM THE RED BUS"

finally i found the blue bus and eventually moms car. i set up the ipod, got out my snack of nutterbutters and started driving. i didnt get far. i had a problem with my moms directions. they didnt work. soon i was driving aimlessly through downtown portland and was reallty missing el sadid lo mohammed shake shack afffinity for the side streets. it was dark, raining and i needed the ocean! this was not part of my vacation. needless to say, a few wrongways down oneways and some right turns on red, i was on course! 26 west. stop when you get to the ocean.

the rain was steadily increasing and i as i worked the audi A6 over the mountain pass, snow began to pile up along the side of the road and i thought to myself, wtf am i doing out here? snow?

2 hourse later, i eased the steaming european sports car into my moms driveway which doubles AS A FOREST since there are no lights, or signs. just trees. and lots of them.

now, truly, my vacation was starting.

apparently my mom has a cat. i have yet to see it!

a double down happy chinese new year to you
-dirtiest of the dirty cookies YO.

"your hotel room smells like ketchup"

and yes, it did.

lo and behold work had taken me away for yet another weekend. this time i was working deep deep inside the evil heart of corporate american cosumerism, at the topsecret headquarters of "QVC". for those of you who dont know what qvc is (or what it stands for), let me tell you,

its just better that way.

my boss had told me to get a good night's sleep on friday bc our work schedule was going to be "delirium in-duncing". so - like a good assistant, i went to bed at about 4 am the night before my 6 am call time.

this is me the next day under heavy security survaillance.

and here is the big shot we were working on...


after finishing up a long day inside the topsecret headquarters i received a phone call on my mobile. now, cellular use is EXTREMELY prohibited inside headquarters, so like any good photo assistant, i went to the trashcan in the corner of the room and pretended to vomit! i bet no one saw past my foil, that i was actually making a cellular connection with my bromance buddy brad.

brad - "amadeo why are you making those awful wretching noises"
agent X -"its a must for our communication to succeed! just go with it"
brad - "stop it!"

i discovered that he and his little lady friend were interested in obtaining a drink, seeing as they were already located in the great state that said evil consumerism corporate headquarters are located within. i agreed to said meetup.

i then called him back and cancelled.

and then called him back again and re-accepted. its actually amazing we are still friends.

needless to say, there were A LOT of trips to the trashcan, in the corner of the room.

an hour later the "paris's" showed up and i welcomed them into my swank hotel room at the sheraton fancy 5 star hotel that i was housed within. i immediately asked them what they thought of my "hotel envitonment" as i was well, kinda excited about it (i like the hotel rooms).

brad's answer? "it smells like ketchup"

this was true, i have to admit. seeing as i was delirious after no sleep and working all day - i reached for what was the only answer to my quixotic despair. roomservice. further more, upon consultation from my doctor, mark taylor, the RX was indeed a hamburger. iron my boy, iron.

and hence the strong smell of ketchup.

really though, the highlight of the weekend was finding out that b and j had been married earlier in the day and i was, well, spending their honeymoon with them. i am thankful for the king size bed. i have slept under a tarp in the wilderness, with brad, (during our bromance period) and i have the kungfu style nighttime bruises to show for it.


we did what only could be done. we went to the hotel bar to celebrate.
cheers.

(it was slightly surreal to show up to work the next and have the 2nd assistant wearing a huge heinz ketchup knitted sweater, that she had apparently made herself. things like this just make me believe that life isnt real, and thats its all some messed up dream)


the dc

gettin PINCHED in the puerto rico