ATTENTION MOCKDOCKERS: Mr. Mock and I are getting up super early tomorrow to get on a plane to Vegas, to belatedly celebrate his 40th birthday. That means that mockery might slow down a bit, unless Buckeye Bob pipes in, which he totally might.
Mr. Mock and I were eating dinner this evening, and I don’t know what the restaurant put in their wine, but I was completely obliterated after 2 glasses, and basically everything was HYSTERICALLY FUNNY TO ME. I slurred to Mr. Mock, “Hey – arrrrre we goooing to get a moooovie on our flight tomorrrrrrow morning?” And he said, “It’s Southwest. We’ll be lucky if we get seatbelts.”
I cannot stop laughing at this. Even now. I’m typing and laughing. Which will henceforth be known as typhing.
Mr. Mock HATES Southwest. He hates that we all get corralled like sheep instead of getting seat assignments. He hates that they bought Airtran. I, on the other hand, like that they fly direct from Indy to Vegas, and that they don’t charge for luggage.
Anyway, I’m drunk mocking right now. Can you tell?