I imagine the reason I often misplace my keys is because my butler, Jeeves (he is one gigantic stereotype), generally opens all doors for me, except not always. Jerk. Must fire Jeeves next time I see him.
Those infuriating people who never lose shit say that the best way to avoid losing shit is to keep shit in the same place you kept it before you lost it so it won’t be lost. Those people give me the shits, but their strategy has some merit, I suppose. You lose shit that doesn’t have a home. Got it.
Which is all very brilliant, but that mystery plane that the world has lost had a home and a routine flight path, and now it’s not where it’s supposed to be. It’s 1000% lost, lost, lost.
 |
| Check in here. Is that the plane? Oh, it's just a giant lemon. |
Maybe it’s true what flight attendants say; the plane will fall out of the sky and you will plummet to your death unless your tray table is locked and secure when they damn well tell you to do it.
How do you lose a fairly sizeable plane? It’s baffling, and a little incomprehensible, that all the sophisticated technology and the support of the world’s best spy agency have not been able to find some evidence of the mysterious jumbo's location, or indeed of its existence.
It seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth. So maybe we should check if it’s made a landing on Mars then. Sometimes I accidently put my keys in the laundry for some inexplicable reason, so it’s good to check in places you don’t think it will be. Maybe check Antarctica too; the earth’s fridge.
No comments:
Post a Comment