There’s Chicago down there, all lit up. I’m on a plane. Moving.

Everybody gets a shit kicking. That’s the rules. Everyone gets an overnight bag full of tiny bathroom products as consolation. Those miniature toothpaste tubes are extremely effective at capturing your curiosity. One has to wonder why anyone would put such a small amount of toothpaste in a tube. Probably because the brush that comes with it can only hold so much. Maybe someone just thought it would take your mind off things during your trip. Everyone is going somewhere. And along the way everyone gets a shit kicking. That’s the rules. Look it up if you don’t believe me. It’s in the handbook.

The Earth is 93,003,000 miles from the sun. One more mile either way and history is undone. One less comet smashing into the Earth 63 million years ago and Godzilla is the mayor of Tokyo. The handbook doesn’t say how far the Earth is away from the sun. Someone figured that out for themself. I like to think of the world as a giant, spherical Chia Pet. There’s already a Chia Guy, a Chia Girl, Chia dogs and cats, and a variety of other Chia animals. So why not a Chia World? Just add water and wham: LIFE. If you think about it, maybe that’s why it took so long for things to happen.

Before I continue I should clarify something. Someone recently wrote me and inquired if I was at all religious, due to the fact that I use the word GOD in some of the things I write. It should be known that my interpretation of the all-mighty usually includes all versions of God, whatever they might be referred to as. This is, by no means, an attempt to be politically and correctly mindful on my part. There are various aspects of many religions that I find interesting.

The most interesting aspect is that they all have several common fundamental principles. Such as: try your best not to kill other people, and love is a good thing so try using it in a sentence today, and there’s hope after all—and my personal favourite—hey! You’re forgiven!

Religion not only provides high drama, but moments of hilarity when you least expect it. In many ways, most major religions are dramedies. Dramedy is a word that was invented in Hollywood, a location quite often confused with many aspects of an altogether elusive and unattainable afterlife.

I’m up in my beautiful, beautiful balloon. I’ve been watching a Japanese movie about dancing. Actually, the balloon isn’t mine, it belongs to Canadian Airlines. I’m just borrowing a seat for five hours. We’re over North Dakota I think. I can’t really tell. I’m having fun with the FLIGHT ATTENDANTS. I can’t talk very well at the moment, so my inability to answer their dinner inquiries with resounding vocal responses has caused some tension.

I’m not sure why individuals who are easily angered tend to actively seek careers in the service industry. Better to join the military, I would think. At least there you can get pissed off and yell all day.

You’re not allowed to call them stewardesses anymore. There’s a law. I had the chicken. I dropped my cheese. Jack Daniels isn’t good for throat ailments. Turbulence.

Everybody still gets a shit kicking though. Don’t think because we’re getting friendly that you’re exempt. It’s the rules. I didn’t make them up, I’m just saying. One day I will open my mouth and nothing will come out. You will have forgotten this by then. You will have forgotten a good many things, I’m sure. I will open my mouth and the gears will fail. Just one more night, I’ll say to myself, just one more night.

Through the smoke and the sweat there’s this mass, this beautiful monster. There is no place I would rather be. One day I will open my mouth and nothing will come out. I will remember every word before that. Forever. Like a tattoo, like incurable cancer, like a dream. There are so many holes and never enough plugs. So many, many holes.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the flight. We look forward to serving you again in the future. The future. Tomorrow. The Earth is a long way from the sun. Numbers are unimportant in the end. But there’s a reason why this crazy Chia Pet is floating around with a bunch of colourful frozen gases and huge, inter-dimensional wormholes. There just has to be. Maybe there was a bang. Maybe God’s watering can has got some good stuff left. Maybe we should just get off our asses and buy a sprinkler. The handbook says that everyone gets a shit kicking. As to when? Well, that’s the beauty of it. You never know.

There’s Vancouver down there, all lit up.