New York City, USA.

The airport lounge is full of the most interesting people.

I want to be the person who has to sell certain passengers extra seats.

I want to be the guy who calls out random flight numbers into the intercom.

I want to have my name called out on the black telephone.

"Upgrade me! Upgrade me!" yell the self-important urchins.

"I am a execu-platina-super member!" they scream into their Blackberries.

They might get extra points for this segment.

They might get a free cookie. They might get an extra seven centimeters of legroom.

Either way, they're all going to get to Toledo at the same time.

I am in New York City. They named the airport after the Mayor.

I think that D.C. should rename their airport after Marion Barry.

Chicago, USA.

This is the warmest winter I can ever remember while living in a place that is supposed to have snow.

I've really enjoyed watching The Spring Olympics.

Clearly all that "global warming" talk in the 1990s was not just an evil ploy by the makers of tank tops.

This is not neccesarily a bad thing. My pants are not getting all salt stained. I don't feel chilly in the morning. I haven't had to clean off my car. I'm not getting drunk off of antifreeze.

Of course, Mother Earth is "dying".

Which I guess isn't that great a deal.

Chicago, USA.

The printing presses are running 24/7 printing out Valentine's Day cards in time for the annual Hallmark holiday.

There are so many ways to say "I love you". Unfortunately, most of these have to be sanctioned by the greeting card giants before they are brought into the cultural lexicon.

It's not as easy as it sounds to tell someone that you appreciate them.

You can buy her a meal. The underlying psychological take-away being that you care about her enough to feed her.

You can have her sleep in your arms. Subtley building close-ness by her knowing that you will not snap her neck or sell her into prostitution as she is helplessly at sleep.

You can take her on a trip. A complex gesture that shows that you are such a provider that you are able to take her away from her boring surroundings, make her fly, shower her with alcohol, have her show her tits for beads, and safely return her without harm.

You can buy her chocolates. This let's her know that she is too skinny and should clearly put on some weight in order to become an excellent child bearer.

You can give her flowers. There's nothing like murdering mother earth so that your honey will have something to put in her pottery-barn jar.

You can take her dancing. All girls like to be reminded of their loose dancehall days. How happy she will be to have been reminded of that drunken make-out session she had with that balding guy in the corner who's flossing.

You can pay off her credit cards. But why the hell would you do that?

It's always hard to be unique. It's hard to make the maximum impact.

I was thinking about taking my baby to a whole bunch of "sad" places so that she'd be so happy with what we've got.

Orphanages. Hospitals. Coal mines. Swingers clubs. Slaughterhouses. Free clinics. Michigan. Leper colonies.

I didn't think she'd get it.

Chicago, USA.

I know your brand of coffee.

I know how many eggs you buy at the supermarket.

I know what college your unborn 1.7 children will attend.

I know what you're going to order.

I know how hard you try.

I know where you got those shoes.

I know that you're claiming this as a deduction.

I know that you say that you exercise more than you do.

I know that last month you were more likely to say 'yes' than 'no'.

I know what you like.

I know what you want.

I know what you crave.

I know what you need.

Now, buy something.

Chicago, USA.

There are good days and there are bad days.

There are days that you want to plant flowers and hug strangers.

There are days when you want everyone to die in a fire.

Some people say that every day is a gift.

They clearly belong in group number two.

I have completely lost my ability to write.

My hands should be replaced with flippers.

Chicago, USA.

No one remembers where the last Superbowl was.

No one remembers which teams were in it, or who won.

No one can recall any of the plays.

No one thinks about the first touchdown or the last field goal.

Yet, the pre-Superbowl hype machine is in full effect again. If you believe what you see, if you dare miss the "Big Game" this weekend or even turn the channel for a moment then the world will cease to exist. This is clearly the most important day of all time. A monumental event that will truly will change the course of history.

Do you really want to waste four hours of your life watching DETROIT on television.

I would rather eat my own Pancreas.

Maybe I'll have a Superbowl party in the loft this year and make it all Detroit themed. Everyone would have to come dressed as a laid-off auto worker, a methamphetamine addict, a pimp or a fire.

Or maybe I'll sit on the floor and eat cottage cheese.

Either way, life will go on.