Anal and Aviation.

No, I did not have anal sex mile high club status. I probably should have just to say I did but that's another story.

So in my quick trip to the east coast I discovered something very important. IT IS MOTHER FUCKING COLD IN DECEMBER IN MARYLAND. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO VISIT MARYLAND WITHOUT HUNDREDS OF LAYERS OF FLEECE CLOTHING AT YOUR DISPOSAL AT ALL TIMES. The entire time I was there I was mistaken for the Michelin Man. I was so bundled up that my armpits got sore from attempting to move around in so many layers of clothing. I'm honestly lucky that I found my only snow jacket. The snow jacket I so happen to have bought in Switzerland when I visited last March because when I visited Europe in the spring time, I was completely unprepared for cold weather much less snow. Let's just say if I would have never gone to Switzerland and experienced cold weather and snow, I would have not had that jacket. If I would have not had that jacket I probably would have made my way into the subway tunnels of the DC metro and befriend a bunch of junkies that live in the subways to keep warm and to come back with good stories.

My last journey to the east coast was a whopping 3 weeks ago and I was on a mission to find myself scrapple. Every opportunity of scrapple eating that I thought I had never materialized (scrapplized?). This time around, I told my friend Katie, who was nice enough to play host to me, that I would refuse to leave until I had my scrapple. In turn, I almost missed my flight but I had that scrapple. Sadly I wish I could say it was worth it. Assuming there are degrees or grades of scrapple, I would assume this was the dog food version of scrapple based on everything else I was served today for lunch. Pictured above is my lunch I at the Forest Diner in Mount Airy, Maryland. AVOID THIS DINER. Yes, I am going to Yelp review the food as being the same quality of waste that comes out of my dog's rear end. I ate half of the scrapple just to say that I actually ate scrapple despite the fact that it was deep fried and burned to the point where I may now have colon cancer. I guess that's not funny to joke about when that runs in my family. FORGIVE ME. The corned beef hash which is normally my favorite eats in diners was completely inedible. It was probably the least appetizing thing I've seen in my entire life (see photo of disgusting round item in sliced from the can and pushed out shape), and I'm willing to guess was leftovers from several years ago. The best thing I ate was the toast with packaged butter. I was hungry on the flight when it was supposed to be my pre-flight food. I had to order a TAPAS BOX on the flight which had olives, cheese and crackers, roasted pepper tapenade, hummus and whatever else Mediterraneanesque that United Airlines could think of that would cost nearly nothing to produce that they could get a significant profit from. I was sitting next to this really cool guy and we talked a bunch (more like I talked a bunch, I believe I talked his ear off) and after we spoke about food (erm, I spoke about food) he made fun of me for eating the tapas box. I showed him a picture of my dog shit for lunch and even he agreed it was probably a wise choice to go for the airline food. That guy was really awesome. I wish I had people like him to talk to on all my flights. Can't get lucky every time, right?

In closing, I just wanted to say that I conquered 8 degree weather. There's another item I can knock off my bucket list: feeling single digit temperatures without dying. See, I did it. I'm only pussy when I want to be.