Airplanes are way worse than shark attacks.

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Airplanes are fucking terrifying. There’s no other way round it. Don’t you be giving me any of that “you’re more likely to die in a shark attack than in a plane crash” bullshit, because despite extensive quantitative research, let’s be honest – you’re not. Everyone knows that if a shark is trying to have a little gnaw at your leg you can just piss on it, punch it in the nose or starfish and it’ll swim off with it’s tail between it’s fins – the same rule doesn’t apply to a large tin can spiralling uncontrollably towards the earth. You can still piss yourself I guess, but it won’t make the slightest bit of difference. So bearing in mind my highly rational fear of being suspended a mile above a very real, very hard ground – here are a few reasons why you should swing over to my side and start boycotting those arrogant air taxis. Boats are getting faster anyway (I think) so we can all switch over to them soon.

Duty free looks impressive, but is ultimately a huge letdown.

Before you even get on the plane you have to deal with the frustratingly anti climatic cordoned off shopping square that is duty free. Kind of like vintage clothes shops, or Spanish water-parks, everything looks great at first glance – then you eventually realise that all the clothes are actually a bit shit, and there’s a yellowy brown stained plaster bobbing around in the plunge pool.

The movies are ALWAYS shit.

Im no film snob by any means – How High and Baseketball rank highly amongst my favourites – but I could unleash a shit storm of pretentious rambling against the quality of broadcasting on planes. I won’t, because that’s not what this site is about, but I can’t conceive how airlines think anyone would want to spend three hours watching Ricky Gervais ruin his career and reputation in a Hollywood supreme-feces-fest.

The television lies about air stewardesses.

In the adverts the staff are all continental, elegant stunners. In real life they’re as if someone has tried to polish a turd with a roller and two crates of foundation. I swear false advertising is illegal, or severely frowned upon or whatever. Any lawyers out there that can help me out with this one? That aside, air steward/esses are useful for knowing when to completely lose your shit; if they’re freaking out then you know something’s up, so I guess they’re good for the fact that the sooner you know you’re going down, the sooner you can do all the things that you wanted to do before you die. Except you’re on a plane so the range is pretty limited. AIRPLANES ARE SHIT.

You’re breathing in recycled flatulence.

When the meat stew and babybel (or whatever food you’re graced with) works it’s way through the gut of that 30 stone guy wheezing away next to you he’s going to be a little gaseous, and when that gas is released it’s going to end up being regurgitated through the air conditioning unit for you to breath in for the remainder of the flight. GROSS or what huh?

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